The Day I

The day is rough and smooth.
It is good and bad.
It is silent and huge.
It is tiny and sad.

It is emptied of all the
love in the world, it is
taciturn faced, it is
grief unfurled.

You must take it and play
as you would with a ball
both flinging and keeping
both guiding and fall.

It is larger than you
with a life of its own.
It is cruelty brought down.
It is dusty and new.

You must bear it in faith.
You must walk with the few
and maybe one day
you will know the grace

to live with its vagaries,
damage and all - be
happy within it, forgive
all its gall

and find you a place
and find you both well
and aligned to its space -
nothing it gives you, and all.

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