When the shadows grew long,

I fell in a field and buried my face in the dirt.


My sleep I gave to lengthen the days,

My muscles to run through walls,

My brain to prepare for myriad crises,

My time to run the backdrop of the world,

My lifeblood to give others drink, and

My sweat to lift their burdens.


As I lie collapsed,

My sun-loosened sinews slowly lose grip on my shattered bones.


God, I am used up!

I am an apple core rung through the cider press,

Losing seeds on the ground.


I cannot wrestle for rest.

I will run and

You must give me tendons as I go.


Your rain rinses the grit from my joints.

Your wind hums a melody and breathes the beat into my chest.


The purest Rest is coming.

I tape together my bones,

Shake the dust from my clothes,

And get up, stride forward, and smile.