Above: I read the poem aloud.
The Instructions
Before age four
every child in my nation
is told clearly
the meaning of life.
You see,
the long-gone who birthed us
our master physiques (with our tool-making thumbs,
and our bipedal feet,)
secured also the key
that is stitched
in our mouths
before we even start
eating or grow in
our teeth.
Like little hands clumsy
little minds cannot grasp
the questions they’ll
face when they’re old:
What
am I
to do
here
with my life?
and
How
go about it?
and
Why?
What a shame,
by the time
we reach these
confusions, we forget
they’re long-ago
given solutions.
They are common strings
threading through
every upbringing, on which
our ancestors strum
the songs of our singing:
Row
Row
Row your boat gently
down the stream.
These are the instructions.
Row your boat gently.
Paddle your vessel
(your self)
gently
through the flow.
And don’t go upstream!
(That’s not worth it.)
Down the stream, follow
the stream, follow
the natural current,
the flow of
Life: the energy grooving
gently
inside
and outside all things
and their moving.
And how?
Listen now.
Merrily.
Merrily,
merrily,
merrily,
merrily!
These are the instructions
for how to live--
--and next,
the reason why:
In five little words
life’s biggest secret:
(Because)
Life is but a dream.
Like the past folded
up inside the present,
what meaning has been
packed like a lock
pick kit stitched
inside the secret lining of
baby’s first melody?
Oh our sneaky,
stealthy grandmothers!
Life is but a dream.
Singing it now,
this living,
dreaming,
feeling,
rowing, singing self
wonders,
--Whether when
wrestling my last
rapid or
at last clefting
the wide open--
(when it’s over)
Bed of what
will I awake in?
Will it be always
some new water?
And how heavy
is this sedative
I’ve apparently taken?
The narcotic of living
can last decades--
or so we pray.
But why
beg substance
from sleep
anyway?
Be there
substance
or meaning in this
water we scry,
why, there’s no way
be sure. But it does seem
worthwhile to move along
merrily, as
you row, by remembering:
For always
you’ve known
your river tour
will be ending,
so row your boat
gently,
lest you wake up
with a trembling.
November 2017
St. Louis