I want to sit at the table of openness,
I’d walk past the table of entanglement,
or the one reserved for those who lambast my ears.
or the one,
the long one, for the baggage handlers,
who carry too much anger
or some other that weighs them down
and anyone who sups from their menu.
I’d want to sit away from the narrow ones,
whose minds are fixed shut against beauty,
or those whose minds are the universe
in their own singular legends.
No, I want to sit at the table of openness,
the place of emotional courage,
where the brain is heartfelt for other.
©Paul Vincent Cannon