The Harsh Truths And The Will To Survive.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

it is very hard to accept
what is not here
what does not arrive
no matter how we must learn
to manage about
these harsh truths
the hardness of stones
and the impeccability of
gravitation



about that friend, that rain,
that roof, that silence
that play, that continual laughter
the drink and the
pause
that stare and the nod,
all these

the tree over the other side
of the world had taken much root
you may think that it is impossible
to uproot it and carry it
across the
sea across the continent
and plant it again in front of our
yard where our children play
and put a swing or
hang a rope
or build a tent
or climb for those fruits
that we tell them
have been hanging on the tree
waiting for the pickers

the mind is powerful
the will is steady
this faith has moved a mountain
and that is just a tree
a sea a continent

the door to every opening is the
closing of the eyes
our hands cover all these impossibilities
and voila
the magic of all magic begins
to unfold

eureka! eureka!
we have discovered we have invented
all these

we are naked and we run into the fulfillment
of everything
right inside the water inside the tub
inside the house
inside the darkness where we live

(and for how long shall we shun the light?
the half closed shutters? the violet Venetian blinds?

ah, for as long as we live

and that is, as always, and will be
happily ever after)