The first adolescence
moved through me
with such strong quakes
that I had to ignore them,
could not bear to free the moving ground
for fear of toppling.
So I kept busy,
moved faster than the tremors,
found ways to listen to the light
so that it could not touch me
deeply,
or break me in the ways I felt too fragile.
And whether that was right or wrong
no longer makes sense to ask,
since the chasm has found me
and there is no more running.
This second adolescence
is not the same
and yet has a similar adrenalin,
this time flowing,
and the sweet tremors
lick from inside
and I am just as lost
but also know there is no me to lose.
There is a willingness to hold just enough space,
a private piece of planet,
for these tectonic ruptures
to bang at will,
cause valleys or mountains
with hot lava
and other tools,
be shaped by forces
I have no control over
and yet unleash.
We are all planet-shapers
though we run from our destiny
and the demands
of being laid bare
to shaking ground.