Doing Nothing

I could scale the Himalayas

with nothing but the kink in my back

but lying on the floor is just as good

I could watch the world begin and end

explode and resume

on television

but doing nothing is more remarkable

I could treat my tongue to warm molasses

and my hands to supple flesh

but my inhalations are just as sweet

I could solve all the equations

move beyond physics

make a real effort to know

but the back of my eyelids make me just as wise

I could get down on my knees

and pray for a pile of blessings

but the view from here offers genuine

Immortality

I could smile about this or that or the other

thing

but this smile I smile

is only just the joy of the ages –

I breathe in Himalayas and Angry Vengeful Gods

and swirl them into pudding

I beam

for past and future mountains in my mind

for the winter sunlight on my eyelids

for the scripture on the ceiling

The gospel says

Don’t follow                           

Don’t lead                               

Just go.

These strange hieroglyphs       

shout                                      

remain

Don’t capitulate to movement

Don’t embrace this happiness too hard

Don’t let your ego write a poem you fool.