Thanks Dreich magazine for publishing this poem (season 5 number 2).
--
In homes devoid of matter,
listless lives are vices
gripping heads in a spin
reaching for air
reaching for atoms
In these domains,
fingers work beyond the bone
in private
and there is no credit or fame,
only crying eyes
and a third eye looks outside
for Hope
or a safety net of some kind
In this type of home,
breathing is trouble
because of sickness (people inside are left to rot)
or lack of opportunity (people inside are overlooked)
Happy hunting grounds are outside
they are cords
Bundles of nerves that are restful, not on edge
In spaces full of matter,
the atoms and the air
make life easier
what is needed is
a series of footpaths
that bridge the gaps
between the airless homes
and the airy, lands of plenty
gentleness is needed
so that the breathing can start
painlessly
so that praise can happen
or windows can open
or sickness can stop
the vacuums can be filled by love
The void becomes a room full of particles
the saltless become worthy