all hands on deck
if you were a sinking ship in the story that you’re living,
some kind of broken vessel among the fleet of masses,
i would gather all the birds of the sky so they could string you to safety
they’d lift you out of the misery of the untamed sea
and onto the shore just beyond your reach.
you’d be out of the tide of a nasty grasp, the waves of no compromise
and if the birds didn’t work, if they couldn’t pull off such a feat,
i’d summon all of heaven’s angels to get you out of your mess
and without fail they’d get you to where you belong, on the fold of dry land
and if you fell from grace every day for the rest of our lives
i’d still walk beside you in every unheroic battle
carrying truth and love in my bag and i’d ration without restraint-
if you needed to detox your spirit from the infamy of distraction
after you got swallowed up in uncertainty, in the long days of life,
i’d hold your hand and let you know
it’s all okay and if it’s not okay, one day it’ll all be okay.
but this i must say:
without doubt, there will be days when our animal systems get the best of us
when words will come like avalanches without poise,
sometimes patience might be slim like models without food
but that won’t be the end—
it’s certain, the hard times will never be the end
not with us, the ones who champion the way of the absurd,
the way of love that presses through the driest droughts and carries on
not like the chemicals that die with the sun each night,
we will be strong, we will say “yes” when every bone aches “no”
and stand up against the battle of every lie, every chasm of concrete ready to destroy,
we will fight with weapons better than guns,
because what we have is worth every reckoning day and it was built to last.
even if you’re the titanic, both my hands are on deck.
