Falling Upward Poem by Carolyn Michael

[Inspired by Bob Dylan's 'Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie']

If you find yourself stumbling over sidewalk curbs
And your friends help you up, but they just make it worse
‘Cause they hear your voice, but they can’t feel your words

If change comes to chase you through a field of grass
And it’s up to your waist and you want to collapse
So you can hide on the ground and just wait for it to pass

‘Cause you’re being pinched and prodded and you’re tired of it all
And your lungs are screaming but your legs won’t let you fall
If your lover leaves you in an empty, cold car
And you feel so lost, though you know where you are

If your paradise burns and your beach blows away
If your crown of quartz turns to a helmet of clay
If you’re walking home at night from long hours of drinking
And your brain is sleeping but your heart is thinking

And your shirt still smells strongly of cigarettes
And you start to scream at your silhouette
‘Cause it follows you around and it thinks that it knows you
And you hate it horribly for the shame that it shows you

If your mouth is dry and your pillow is wet
From the warm tears flowing from inside your head
And your eyes are stinging, and your nose is running
And your ears are ringing, and your brain is humming

If your father is gone and your mother is sick
And you begin to laugh and believe it’s a trick
‘Cause it’s the only way you can stay afloat
While the tide’s tugging you backwards away from the boat

If beliefs of the beginning turn your belly to bricks
And thoughts of the future make your throat feel thick
If you’re sliding fast into a tunnel of night
And you strike a match to get some light
But your pockets were wet and it just won’t ignite

If your sleep traps you tightly in dreams of Hades
With suffocating smoke and mutilated ladies
Then you start to ask questions
So you go to school and you look and you look
But you can’t find your answers in any book

So you decide to plan your life right then
You feel around your pockets and pull out a pen
And quickly your canvas comes into your sight
A mile-long hallway with walls of white

So you uncap the pen and put the tip to the wall
Hold your arm out firmly and walk down the hall
You step back and stare at the thin, black line
And your chest sends a wave down the length of your spine

And everything flows to a final point in space
You can’t lift your legs, you can’t feel your face
You see the beginning isn’t where you put down your pen
And where you picked it up again isn’t the end

Your birth is the bottom edge and your death is the top
Now you know when to go and you know just when to stop
You know it’s hard to remember to live before you die
But your fingers start to shake and your feet begin to fly

‘Cause you see that life is short, but it’s infinitely wide