Prisoner

Knox Farm State Park

I keep thinking

That I am making progress

And that I am tearing down the artificial walls

Between me

And “nature”

But it’s all just another intellectual exercise

An even deeper

Trickier trick

Of the western mind

To think that

Thinking

Can heal me

Can bring me into a state

Of equilibrium

I stare at a pond

On a perfect day

Perfectly warm

With a perfect breeze

Under a perfect sky

Watching

What I think are purple martins

Darting through the air

Wind blowing through the leaves of an oak

While rippling the water of the pond

And none of this

Holds my attention

For long

I pull out my phone

Constantly

I read a book

Sure,

An excellent book about the experiences of the gods

Of the people who were enslaved in Haiti

But this is all still

Of the Mind

I realize

Why don’t I jump into this pond?

Why don’t I enjoy it

The way the purple martins and the winds do?

Why do I just continue to

Think

At the edges?

It’s because

For all my intellectual work these last few years

All the thinking

And the processing

And the trying to decolonize my mind

I am not including my body

I am still held at bay

By Polite Society

And imaginary rules and expectations

And maybe a little lack of interest due to the algae

But still

All this work

Isn’t true work

My mind can think it’s free

All it wants

But it still holds my body

Prisoner

Let the joyful dogs

Who leap into the pond

Free of chains

And full of life

Lead the way

So afraid to transgress

Imaginary borders

I actually cross a fence

Into a field of tall grass and thistle

And I just

Look

And then

Because I’m a 21st century monstrosity,

I take a selfie

Hey,

It’s pretty good.