The Push
8/9
Life is all about the push.
A plant's roots stretch till they
strain against the walls
of the pot, seeking ever more sustenance,
more space, more room to grow.
No bird makes its nest big enough
for its nestlings to stay forever.
We are meant to go forward
always. Hummingbirds the size
of fragrance bottles
hurl themselves across
the Gulf of Mexico, butterflies
will their tissue paper wings
across continents, salmon ravage
their bodies, the flesh hanging from their
bodies like satchels of flesh to return
home to spawn.
Maybe the end of life,
the slowing down,
the rickety body,
the aging flesh,
is just preparation for that final
push. That final lunge upstream,
those last desperate miles of
flight till the final barrier is reached,
and we push forward, break through life's final wall,
to begin another journey.
Life is all about the push.
A plant's roots stretch till they
strain against the walls
of the pot, seeking ever more sustenance,
more space, more room to grow.
No bird makes its nest big enough
for its nestlings to stay forever.
We are meant to go forward
always. Hummingbirds the size
of fragrance bottles
hurl themselves across
the Gulf of Mexico, butterflies
will their tissue paper wings
across continents, salmon ravage
their bodies, the flesh hanging from their
bodies like satchels of flesh to return
home to spawn.
Maybe the end of life,
the slowing down,
the rickety body,
the aging flesh,
is just preparation for that final
push. That final lunge upstream,
those last desperate miles of
flight till the final barrier is reached,
and we push forward, break through life's final wall,
to begin another journey.
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