How does a horse sell a house? They are helpless.
What animal does this?
Crabs outgrow them and walk away.
Many humans die without a house Willed,

forcing

other humans to decide or not sell their house for them.

Where to move to next?
What job to take and where?
And with who, and what’s the why?

The answers lay in the bare foot deep of sands of beaches

of washed up burials and cremations,

and surfing in the waves of wise whale’s poops

and ancient dead and alive sea algaes.

The answers are inhaled floating down parachuting to, and then

landing breathing in the dirt.

Smelling damp caves, touching their old old walls, and the barks of old old trees and young young trees, and all the living and dead trees in between.

The wisdom of all that lived and died is skin soaked in, touched in,

breathed in, drank in – they are the dejavus when you think you’ve experienced this before. You have.

When trying to, so hard trying to, and even give up gave up

trying to – to make big decisions,

turn over the wet and smelly compost pile

you carry around – there is within you

trillions of ancient experienced knowledgeable

bacterias, parasites, plants and viruses, clam shells,

burnt and buried human ancestors,

strengthening your resolve. Let them tell you what to do.

For answers, like you too, the waters, the deserts,

mountains and alleys, like you are boxed in,

forced to often ruminate and dwell.

To exist well, you, like them, are carrying around the atoms of

swamps, volcanoes, clouds and the gazillions of bugs,

make the best big decisions, thinking of them.

©️December 2024 Much Love, Deb Poems