i’m on a lost and found table
which means
of course
i know exactly where i am
but no one else does

separated from certainty
waiting to be recognized
next to a gray hoodie
and a pink water bottle
adorned with barbie stickers
and a pair of warby parker sun glasses

it’s funny how much stuff
can go unnoticed
and is apparently unwanted
and how temporary
and impossibly thin i can feel

like the shadow of a tree
lengthening and diminishing
as the sun welcomes the night

after all these years
of waking up
you realize that life is an apparition
we are a mist on this earth

we toil and run
sing and work
dance and hate
love and fret
create and scream

and the theme of it all
the ostinato beneath this journey
is a longing
that we know cannot be fulfilled
while we are still here

we long to be free
from being tethered to the soil
and we know
that we have been leaving
since our story began
we just want to stay

so instead of identifying
where this longing leads
we invest our souls
in tiny pursuits
expiration dates constrict
all of our efforts
to be known
loved
and declared worthy
until we find ourselves
on the lost and found table

screaming for someone to join our tribe
yet afraid of losing our loneliness
crying for justice and healing
yet ignoring the wounds
of our crumbling souls

i will be found

after all
the warby parkers
were picked up
surely someone will
will see me

has seen me

will remember me

has created me

will look for me

has found me

i belong