Stay, Stay. (written on the road)

How many times in our lives have we heard the word "stay":

When our friends or family members are slipping on into death, we say "stay with me",
When we are making an exit, a crystal opportunity shines and beacons "stay, stay".
We are halfway out the door of a lovers house, and they beg us with oceans in their eyes
and they say
"please, stay, stay".

But in these moments we are always staying-- our touches and words stay in peoples minds, our pictures stay, our experiences always staying in some place
that we are not.

A bit of us stays everywhere, like little ghosts.
We can wear the coats of our forefathers on the shores of the ocean.

So
It is easier to not stay.
To turn to that lover and simply say "no, I will not"
once we become the everywhere.
We can let death take away our mothers on sparrows wings
We can leave behind the things we know, building birdhouses for the words "stay" and "go".

I will stay with you
I am staying here
I am going there, too.

Spirits wander, holding hands with the objects we see and those we can see no more.
We migrate over seas and land masses on a vast pilgrimage to the future
and pay homage to the past.

I
stay
with everything.
I
will carry pounds of you
around with me on this earth, until I am no more--

When I become bits of people who have not yet arrived,
and my ideas become seedlings in the minds of artists
a thousand years in the future.