Some Days

from Out With Lanterns, a regular poetry practice

Some days all I can do is to show up. 
I suppose that’s what the bird does too,
finds, carries stems, weaves a home, 
and the beaver, building, stick by stick. 
I admit I haven’t always shown up
for myself, for others, for my art, 
but as my days grow fewer, I understand 
that the point isn’t whether I’ve been good. 
The point is sitting still, right now, 
asking, “What’s here? 
How do I write it into being?”  

Photo by Derek Otway on Unsplash