The Witness

There’s really no other way to go than as the witness

Sit back. Way back.

And watch all the parts

There’s the poet, the speaker, the family tree seeker

A distant familiar grin

The movement of light

A subtle unintentioned opening to flight

The power within. The wall.

The unveiling of it all.

The tears, the years, the unexamined fears

The tides and the body

The rooms and delight of a child running in sight

All this. Right. Under the surface. The whole world. Cheering you on.

How brave it is.

How awesome it is.

It wasn’t an I, it was a we.