This is your hand, this
outstretched open palm, offering,
and so is this, your fist
ready to strike and beat back the world.
These are your eyes, wide in wonder, and these
narrowed, blazing with rage, and so too
these, with joy free
to flow with every laugh from your mouth.
This is your voice, harsh and scraping
and so is this, mere words
turned to song, joy in every breath escaping
to tell of the things you have seen.
This is you, in all your aspects
in your anger and laughter, your hate
and love, your fight
and surrender; this is you
this collection of bones and muscle and skin holding
a spirit, that is so much, and so much else, but above all
infinite, and this
all of this
and so much more