A Message I Have Carried

You will find it between the legs of a caterpillar,
Or spreading out upon water, iridescent, WD-40,
Falling in sudden moments almost unnoticed,
Like a meteor that streaks
Across the corner of your eye.

You can go to the books, too,
Blake, Whitman, and Borges
Have carried it with them,
But there you find the messenger
Grows larger than the message.

Look for yourself,
Beneath a rock, where a centipede curls,
Where the paper wasps tend their nurseries,
Go inside the cocoon,
These things are possible.

Wade into Niagara above the falls,
Test your courage,
The current moves not so swiftly as your fear
And can be withstood
By one without weak knees.

Eat more fruit and honeysuckle.
Be stung by bees.
Watch the crescent moon fall beneath the Pacific,
In January and July,
Watch it rise from the Atlantic, full in September.

Put down the pen and paper,
Put your books aside,
Rub lotion on a woman's legs any chance you get,
Sleep long and deep in a bed of leaves
On autumnal afternoons.

There is still much work to do
Before my soul retires.
I have many lives yet to live.
More blacktop streets to walk upon
In the neighborhoods of Illinois.

You will find the message.
Carry it with you further.
It will be your burden.
My breath will fill your lungs,
My hand will move your pen.