Be what you are,
boy with faraway eyes,
strong feet.
Run over the crevasse,
climb the tree,
leave no door unopened,
to your daylight,
to the silence of dreams.
Be what you are,
and build your pyramid.
Find the end of the garden
inside you.
Hold the tempest in your hand.
King of lightning,
father of tears.
Write poetry
on the soft linen of your heart.
Climb the mountain inside you.
Give away your beautiful eyes.
Let the world see in them,
through them,
the wonderful feast of living.
Be what you are.
Be still,
and answer the ring
of the hard bell,
the whisper of the grass.
Find the limitless sky
of your hands
touching earth.
Let the voices inside you
shout free.
Everything is a cherished dream.
No wall
is meant to be vacant.
No vacant corner
meant to be silent.
Be what you are,
Jackie,
creation’s creation,
huge as a sea.