In 2017, I’ll reconsider the mic drop.
I don’t really want to hold myself
at the threshold of everything, and
threaten to fall over the edge of connection.
I’d become an faint echo of a fuller self,
just a BOOM, a hollow dot in the exclamation
point of my own downward trajectory.
This is what happens
when you continue to fight
and have no heart for who you’ve become.
You might get Experience, but
you don’t get Love for proving yourself.
In 2017, I’ll choose, instead, to be an open mic.
I really want to let go of myself
at the verge of laughing and crying, and
find a lightness of mind at their intersection.
I’ll ditch the either-or approach, and wear
a levity that lacks any appropriate seriousness.
I’ll say yes, and give them both.
This is what Joy is.
When you continue to Kind
and learn how to go whole heart.
You’ll get hugs and high fives, and
know how it feels to be embraced.
In 2017, I’ll trade my quick wit
for good old-fashioned humor. I’ll
slow-process all the a-muse-ments
so when I laugh, you’ll know
it came from the depths of my belly
rather than the back of my throat.
The difference will be audible, so
it’ll be important to maintain a sense of it.
This is what Voice sounds like
when you don’t let Nostalgia get
in the way of your story.
You can give up the plot, and
in a moment, own the narrative.
No point, then, in reliving it later.
In 2017, I’ll hold the microphone
like a baton out toward the human race.
The brevity of my words will awake
an impermanence of Time that inspires
new breaths. I’ll grow more beautiful
as I become, wearing that wonderful smile.
Believe you, Me, that means so much.