How to make a bird fly
when the bird can't see her wings
is one of the many many
seemingly impossible things.

When too many dreams 
means too many things
and too many thoughts
attached to ideas and fantasies,
the silence is lost to
the noise and the seeking
and the trying and the wishing.

But all we are is dust
and all we have is now
and all I hope is to
be here, now. 
And all I hope is to
hear the bits
that mean a thing
to me, now.
Or to we, 
now.

Trust me when I say
I'm not doing anything,
I'm not trying to anything.
I'm not going anywhere,
I'm not looking for anything.
I'm not striving, not seeking,
I'm not even sure what
I'm not trying to do.
I simply am not.