Showing Up by Sarah Reichert

Every day is a stranger’s best guess

who’ll show up to fill my skin

not even I know what shape

my mind will take

or what chaotic beauty will emerge

from which butterfly’s wing flap

but I know she will be beautiful

she always is

broken or ballsy

tired gloom or bursting rainbows

contemplative or cursing

all shades of her grey matter

matter and shine and

she’ll do ten thousand amazing things

per second

without me directing

bring coffee to lips

walk steps

write poems

hug babies

manipulate words

toss around thought

buy the groceries

feed the soul

take the hit

give it back, times two

every day is fate’s best guess

who’ll show up to fill my skin

But she is always

broken and in-progress

uplifting and whole

whether in shades of gray

or color

I can always count

on me showing up

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