Things are breaking down,
Decomposing and exposing their worth,
The value of their component parts.
This chemical untethering and weathering
Is pungent, gritty, quiet, unhurried;
A process natural, rational, and so foreign
To the breakneck speed of modernity,
With its showiness and curt efficiency;
This slow, steady, deliberate work humbles,
Discouraging pat responses and deflections
About the true substance of things and instead
Creates space and time for stillness, for sifting.
It is uncomfortable to reveal and relinquish
The bits and pieces that have no further use,
But to recognize essential things and invest
Them in new soil is grace alive in the dirt.
I write to process. I write to explore. I write with the hope of sharing truth greater than my own.