That edgy feeling that keeps arising
until it can no longer be ignored —
let it be what it wants to be,
a message from you to yourself.
If it challenges your fixed ideas,
all the better to let it breathe.
Crack open the myths of location,
tribe, personal identity.
Let the fox into the hen house,
let it have its natural way, the gods
will all dine on chicken tonight.
Confined in loveless self-images,
we gnaw on the bones of thoughts,
but that meager meal never satisfies,
never fills us up — how could it?
We can do better, we are gods!
Forget the chicken, forget the fox.
Stop shrinking away, crouching
in a cramped hen house.
Break some eggs.