SITTING
Cheerfully

I left the ring of trees only to swim across the lake.
After a few days of watching the sun,
thinking about nothing in particular,
everything in general,
I started to guess at the birds that called.
It feels good to string food from a tree that has claw marks in it.
A doctor’s son feels proud to make a fire for comfort
and listen to the coyotes howl to each other like it’s music.

I decided that rather than despair at the meaning of existence,
look for wonder on the far side of tragedy;
cast my dice for infatuation on the other side of boredom,
hope for new worlds beyond this one.
This is the risk, this is the shuffle:

Reading existentialism for the past few months has forced me
Awkwardly, to slink into this position:
Bald eagles gliding over glassy lakes make a spot feel right.
Also, bullfrogs and raccoons are fine company at night.
No need to wait to be dissatisfied to start in a new direction,
but being unhappy (tragedy, what else?) does make action appealing.
Re-action even more so;
So, start from burning joy.

The sky was forty shades of blue where the trees met the water
and our sun slowly fragmented.