What Comes Next Poem by Patti Masterman

What Comes Next



What comes next when sad earth no longer is smiling
And we are all carrying parcels like stones inside of us
As if rare gems; we are their pack horses
We save up stones for some special day’s events
We watch ourselves from mirrors
Far away, on uncertain horizons.

We carried rocks around, but for whom
Did we carry them all this time?
People who saw us daily ignored our burden
Our grimaces looked happy, so involved at our task were we:
The heavy weight of grimaces was normal here,
Nobody looked twice.

Bury us upon our feet, our busy faces pointing upward
And let no heavy boulders quash our expressions in death,
It was a long brave wait and perhaps we forgot
Whatever we waited for; too busy rolling things uphill.

But we grew thick muscles under the daily weight of granite
Now the sun shines down, sun that we never had time for when alive
Our roots, our brains sticking up out of the ground
Like some fissured wound of stumbling block-
Even if the clocks stopped, the ticking never will.

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