Being alive is a commitment
to the earth
and so is being dead
for that matter
Being a parent is a commitment
to cardboard castles
and Band Aids and listening
and limits and chaos
At some point you’re not sure
of the distinction between you and the earth
or you and your children for that matter
one arising from the other like periscopes
At some point you wonder
if the earth is merely working out its future
and using you and your good intentions
to navigate its wobbly path through the void
You’re not sure
if it’s cosmic botheration or love
that keeps you going
or whose love for that matter
