Vatican Museum, September 18, 2013

Through the cabin wall I hear them

the drums

the bass

the chatman stick.

They are working

I am writing words of frustration

words of envy

words that I am

ashamed of.

I never thought how

my life would go.

So why am I so

disappointed in it?

I want to hold on to the way

I felt at the Vatican Museum.

I felt like everything

when I usually feel like nothing.

I felt as if I was part of it all.

I felt as if I was ancient

in the most wonderful

and beautiful way.

I was the mummy and the rustic pots

unadorned in usefulness.

What an accomplishment

the pot.

How it changed the lives

of us all.

Just a pot

something to hold something else.

Are we that for each other?

Something to hold

and be held?

Those pots did not change

for 4000 years.

They remained of

form and function

in the most basic way.

A cell phone device computer changes

every quarter.

What more can it do for you?

It already makes you want more.

What more do you want?

I ask that to myself.

I'm afraid to go home

and still be the person I was

when I left.

(written 9/18/13)