Concrete

Countless times I have let myself fall into dreamlike states
Only to shake and stumble back to a place concrete
Seeing that everything is at it was, has always been.
And there, looking around me and within me, I know
That change is not impossible, not unlikely, but
Nonetheless very difficult to attain.
In these moments, I realize that while concrete is far
From malleable in its hardened form,
It is not indestructible.

So these barriers made of tough mixtures of
Sand, of granite, of limestone, of water,
I may chip away at them, with chisels and
Hammers and picks and even fingernails,
And reveal once again, the bright horizon,
The vista of evergreen bristles, the rivers
Rushing, the fields of candy-pink peonies
And morning flowers of every kind,
The sweet and beckoning wind.

Concrete has always been there, walling
In my dreamlike states, keeping them
At a great distance from me, but I still
Stretch out my arms to beat it into dust,
I continue to search for tools to pulverize
Its confining, insidious resistance.
What drives me to continue this fight?
Concrete walls are not high enough
To keep me from seeing the light.