small
The space I occupy has shrunk and
in it I am acutely aware of the size
of myself. I know now how my
largeness requires and requires.
I'm ready to be smaller. I want
to be small enough to slip through
cracks in walls and rest unnoticed
on park benches. Not small like
a grain of rice that sneaks slyly
through the colander, or like the
particles of dust that can never
be swept into the dust pan. I seek
the smallness of a seed
that slips unseen through
a gardner's fingers and blooms
in a place it was not planted.
in it I am acutely aware of the size
of myself. I know now how my
largeness requires and requires.
I'm ready to be smaller. I want
to be small enough to slip through
cracks in walls and rest unnoticed
on park benches. Not small like
a grain of rice that sneaks slyly
through the colander, or like the
particles of dust that can never
be swept into the dust pan. I seek
the smallness of a seed
that slips unseen through
a gardner's fingers and blooms
in a place it was not planted.