One Poem by Fredrick Zydek

Learning to Be Organic

It was raining the night I figured out
your will had become lord against me.
My body ached for you, my skin knew
things about you that made trees blush.

But my spirit clogged up each time
things had to go your way. Sixty-forty,
your favor, would have been fine with me.
There was a string attached to everything.

I thought about going away like a broken
dog, slipping off into the night to earn my
living the hard way, until I remembered
I was the only one earning cold hard cash.

Each time you disappeared for a week
or two, I learned to be organic as a tree,
a thing comfortable living by itself, a thing
that learned to cherish aloneness. I began

contemplating my role in the universe,
the similarity between myself and what
stars do to oil the celestial machinery.
One day I understood the ways that air

is like the skin of God, why rain makes
me feel like I’m sprouting for the first time,
why sparrows speak for the speechless sky.
I owe all this to you and so much more.

{Poem by Fredrick Zydek}