If there is a thing that one does not believe is possible,
then in that life, the thing is impossible.
We each are prophets of our own experience.
We never could do
The things that dance
Outside of the limits
Of our own minds.
He says that what we see around us
Need not be our experience.
We can live beyond,
If we choose to ignore what appears as limitation.
We cannot taste the fruit of faith
Before climbing the tree of hope,
Before leaving the solid ground of everything
This dirt tells us is true:
That limits are real,
That there is a lid on potential,
That past failure determines future outcomes.
Hope comes with leaps that appear insane,
To the glossy rigidity of the world’s system.
Only where we still ourselves outside of the noise
Of the disbelieving, unbelieving, un-imagining masses
Who gently obey the limit
Will we find a silence loud enough to follow.
A limit is a thing.
It is a thing that we choose
It is a thing that we agree with.
It is a thing we indulge with our obedience.
But, what happens when we refuse to see the limit?
Then it is not a thing.