Through time, I’ve come to realize

That beating around the bush

Won’t ignite a flame;

So I take a timid step in the cluster of weeds

And try to extract kindling

 

Life is like this, too

I always find myself

Within the perimeter of my passion,

Within the area of my aspirations, but

Never submerged in the sum

Of my necessities

 

Then I recall the little things

That give me the most strength:

 

When I feel ill of the ignorance,

Nas’ Illmatic and It Was Written get

A rotation or two

 

Toni Morrison will tell me why eyes

Can be dangerous, toxic, when blue

 

Davis and Coltrane bring out their horns

And get their share of the shade, too

 

And the serenity of it all,

Always feels brand new

 

Essentially, my essentials are at

The core of my being

Laying much deeper than even the layers of sediment

Beneath my feet:

Truly, I am a geologist’s dream

 

But I can’t forget, I am far

From a sedate element

Earth is not otherworldly enough

To transform my spark, into a flame:

 

So I strike that kindling, again and again,

Until my fire is ablaze

 

And when it’s contained, I can walk away,

Knowing that I’ll return looking for warmth

 

On colder days