To live

It’s time to wake up now, to see what’s not been seen.
It’s time to wonder at the source of wonder and the weave of things unknown.
Your heart will draw the map for you, I’m sure; your mind will engineer the path—but
don’t digress or dabble in diversions;
don’t fuss with flashy dongles or the glitz—
don’t linger on a period when there are questions to be asked.
Spend instead a pulsing pause with thoughts on what’s beyond, what makes it possible to
buoy a wound-up wad of love and grimaced hate; of dubious and daring in one swell
of human being. What makes a man a man?
Imagine what compels a
song or urges us to dance when we have two
left feet. Or hope when science spells formidable combustion.
Dare to dream and dream of daring— for God or Gaia or the outer mind.
No one is asking that you profess a faith— but I am asking you to wonder
what unnatural muse has caused us love? Made us social? Brought us pain?
What spurred you up today, I ask? And why by all the gods did you go out the door to live?