All/You/I, a poem
by Dave Klaus
All/You/I
don’t give me a pitch
don’t tell me a story
don’t serve me pie in the sky
tell me the truth
the dark parts
the hard parts
the parts that don’t want to be told, the parts that hide from the sun
(toothy little things, hungry for blood, hungry for love, hungry, hungry…)
tell me the sad parts, the parts where you’re afraid, really afraid. Trapped in Amber.
tell me the parts when you gave up, just gave up,
because you were tired, and it was too much
the parts you wish were different
I want to see the shadows.
I want to see them, bold and stretchy, looming and translucent.
trans/lucent
because behind those shadows is a shining light
and though I can’t look straight at it (like the sun, you know)
I know you
and I feel the Light shining through
I feel it there and it warms me and I am safe,
and it adds to my light:
with your light my shadows
fade,
a bit,
flickering,
pensive.
I want to see the shadows because inside them I see the rest of you,
inside them I see the All of you.
inside them
I/All/you.
I have no exit strategy, no plan for the door, no escape route in mind
I am here. With You.
I have no reason to doubt,
no reasonable doubt
(well a few, maybe; a few, more than that; ok yeah, I got doubts)
but there’s NO doubt I/you can hold what I/you got,
because I/you am large and I/you contain multitudes
I/You
I have a willingness to suspend disbelief, a willingness to be-lieve
I have a faith that treads water over 50,000 Fathoms,
head above it, mostly,
but not always, sometimes under
we will tread together and I’ll brush the wet hair from your eyes.
And when its time I’ll mop your brow,
and I will sit with you,
just sit,
and hold your hand,
I/you.
only so many breaths.
only so many.
so don’t give me a pitch.
and don’t tell me a story.
and don’t serve me pie in the sky.
I want the All of You.
I/All/you
All