Don’t tell me (it’s wrong)

Don’t tell me it’s wrong

Don’t tell me the human experience

is wrong.

I won’t judge yours

and please don’t judge mine.

Any of us could combust

at any given moment

And oh, the air in my hair,

I really couldn’t care

Right now

I am blowing along

with this hill.

I can feel the music

in my chest,

Hear the thunder raging to come.

The world is so loud–

And I don’t just mean sound.

We so often seek things to drown it out,

But what if we let it swim?

Whatever you make of it–

Whatever you make

of your splendid little piece of sand on this rock–

is potentially yours.

(I’m not kidding, here:

Nothing is wrong.)

How many times

do I need to say:

We need not worry.

God will always

always

       always

        give you what you need.

One minute of worrying

Is more wasteful

than hours of only

being.

And so I’m convinced:

Nothing done or said

Or given

Is ever wrong.

Things happen:

And we are constantly rolling

towards a greater destination.

(Don’t tell me it’s wrong

Don’t tell me it’s wrong.)

It is silly

To worry

Or question the Power of existing.

Right now,

I am here,

You are here.

It is exactly how it ought to be.

(Because it is.)