Irrelevant

   

Become irrelevant.

Then you can dance.

Become useless.

Then you can observe, unobserved.

Threatening no one,

you are a secret agent

of the Most High.

Not understanding

what in hell is going on,

you gather the intelligence

of the unknown

and reveal the prophecy

of silence.

People don't notice your body,

its pebbles and chinks

where spiders nest,

its deer trails spiraling nowhere,

the dandelions growing

from your cracks.

Your mansion crumbles

and you become a field of grass

too low and green for storms

to knock down.

You wither to wisps of brown.

A forest mother weaves you

into a mat for her baby.

You are so finely woven,

you hold water for shepherds

who watch under the stars.

And when you have truly

become nobody,

the Goddess breathes you.

You are filled with light

even while your flesh

is sleeping.

Photo: Shepherd in the Dolomites, from The Guardian