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Lay down those arguments

I say, lay them down

those documentations, proofs,

that forcing disobedient evidence

into cookie-cutter shapes

to squeeze out on the page


Lay down those ritual attempts

to pronounce the unpronounceable

bare headed, hatted, hooded,

cloaked or masked; to write

names in candle wax

read inscriptions on tombs


Lay down on grass or sand

or water, be quiet, breathe softly,

allow the breeze to kiss your face,

the waves to lap your nakedness

let tadpoles swim between your toes


Lay down, be quiet, your spirit knows

the answers, they’re written clear

inside your cells.  Do birds or planets

discuss the meaning of things?


Lay down

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© Johnmichael Simon



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