Ever Connected

This ceiling fan,

jammed into the ceiling

like a knife in a body,

sits still—no movement

no play.


I sit below

and to the right.

The switch—the mechanical

brain—sits behind me.


Is this a web of

thought patterns:

Does the fan beg to move?

Does the switch beg to be flipped?

I am in control of this fan,

yet why so hard

to be in control of me—

my feelings, my thoughts?


Could it be

because I neglect the needs

of this ceiling fan?


Perhaps when I neglect

neglect the needs of others

I relequish control

over my needs,

my well-being.


But the fan is connected

by patterns of thoughts

from it

to the switch

to me,

sending signals

lights, feelings, gestures.


Perhaps others’ needs

are connected to mine:

fulfill one

to fulfill the other.


By severing my relationship with one,

I sever a piece of the relationship with myself—

I neglect; I die

slowly like poison working its way to the heart.


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