it's not in poetry

it’s not yours
this planet
this moment
this species
this place
it’s not yours and it’s not mine either
we belong to it
you belong to it

it’s not yours
you’re a passenger
you’re a renter
you are a guest passing through
like a couch-surfer or a ghost
and here’s the thing:
that’s actually okay.

even if you could own this
all this
this thing
it’s all too big or
really we’re all just too small
it could never fit in your hands
in your shirt pocket
in your measure of eighty-or-so-years
you’d over-flow and explode
if it was yours
if it was your own, alone

so revel in it instead
that it’s not yours
it’s not mine
you don’t have to carry it all around
in your mind
you can live
this moment’s not yours
to have take or give
you get to be alive
stop worrying about being in charge of anything
just be