Change

Who are you, changeling?
You are the change I make you.

If I am the flame on the stems of prairie grass,
You will be the blaze across the The Plains.

If I am the planks, you will be the the rope, and the tribe will cross.
If I am the leaven, you will be the na'an, and the people will feast.

If I am the rice, you will be the truck, and the gates will open.
If I am the bodhi, you will be awake, and there will be quiet.

If I am the pall, you will be the grave, and the good men will lay.
If I am the chamber, you will be the sear, and primer will burn.

If I am silent, you will be the word, and the word will be hollow.
If I speak, you will be the voice, and we will make verses holy.

If I am stone, you are the rubble. If I am embers, you are the ash.
If I am inertia, you are inert. If I am errant, you are the error.

Without me, you do not speak,you do not climb, you make gestures 
Without intention, your fingers have no purchase, your pockets
Have no stitches, your teeth will rot, your pen will go dry, your trees
Will not shade you, your sleep will not rest you, your food
Will not feed you, your men will not save you.
You will rust, you will wilt, you will die.

Understand this:

You will not be my knight. You will be MY sword.
You will not be my king. You will be MY crown.
You are not my healer. I am yours.

-MD, 2008