New Year Resolved

A Creation Myth



Thistle in the rocks

I know it can be hard to see 

because of the way 

our solar system rotates around the sun, 

the way winter follows a line 

seemingly separate from human influence,

and how we can see the shape 

and movement 

of the Milky Way,

but if you zoom out much farther,

it becomes clear

that I am

in fact the center 

of the universe.



Starting there,

when imagining the way 

a mountain 

can be important to millions 

and wondering who what is so important to the mountain 

that survival of itself, 

not for itself, 

seems emotionally entangled in need 

with constant need of telling: 

Arrival is not a place,

you have to wonder at the way 

every atom in our bodies 

was once something that burned 

some amount of time 

and some amount of space 

away. Something on fire in a way 

much larger than what it means to explore 

the alienness of any given species 

at any particular place - for are we 

not all alien 

and in possession of all the water 

that will ever exist on this planet? 

Not through ownership 

but through the chemistry of a human 

body in the shape 

of a singular planet and the natural 

worlds’ own proportions.



Then how to heal ourselves 

on this rock of capital G’s 

(un)wanted children 

where the only universal-planetary 

rule leads us to consume each other 

for survival? The wapiti with a central nervous system 

like ours so it must be more important 

than the grass, but consumption still the law. 

And if you meet a more merciless destructor 

than water herself 

run.



So what does it mean to live in The Shadow

the conflict of longing

heavy and foreign, 

thick in my mouth and uncomfortable.

It seems cheap to long, and lazy

but best still, for centralized need.

Need: to watch 

the mountains change

every single day

the Mountain watching 

every single day

a life my universe can fathom but my mind cannot

speaking in glacial tongues of time, 

too slow for us aliens to understand

claiming knowers

though the tree is older 

and generationally more capable 

of giving.



So the invitation is there.

Warm and almost entirely honest.

An asking,

To Myself:

Come live inside of me already.


For the winter at least.