ManicWorld Magazine

My core is
spinning differently now.
Canons, credos, codes
once thought to be solid,
Shift and shake.
Inimitable earthquakes,
And the aftershocks that come in
the dark night
Rumbling rattling
Teeth and thoughts.
Terrify, tear down, toss about.
When the fear subsides,
And I can again look with clear eyes,
I think maybe
Some things needed to be broken,
So the next things can be revealed.
My shelled-off self,
my outer mollusk,
My armadillo costume,
Now flexes and curves,
yields even,
Changing everything.
My days have changed.
Not in tectonics but in the
Imprint of a bird’s toe on the snow,
The dip of flower’s stem under the
Weight of a bumble bee,
Tiny, infinitesimal, minuscule,
But important.
Important to me
And the planets around me.