Give me firm ground to hold me still,
And purest brine to drown until,
The sky falls off of its silvery peg,
And crashes down upon my head.
Give me deep caves in which to cry,
And meadows of rape to dry your eyes,
Give me all the fish and birds as well,
Swim up!
Dive down!
Swoop in pell-mell!
Stampede unto me men and all beasts,
Search them out ‘till West becomes East,
Corral them together and dust them down,
Make them all hold hands,
So you have a crown.
Hand me the nebulae and giant supernova,
Hand them to me so I can hand them over,
Find me a solitary sailing old comet,
Lasso that wild thing,
Plant your flag upon it.
Discover me bacteria playful in my lungs,
So that my lonely bugs are not the only ones,
Hand over the keys to a new brain as well,
Straight from the shop,
With that new brain smell.
Give me all these gifts
So I can wrap them together,
While keeping the tone
As light as a feather,
And present you a box
Of all bounteous creation,
Although, confession:
I kept the PlayStation.
'Gifts to Give' by Graham Thomas is taken from 'Atlas of Ambiguous Loss', a collection of poems coming soon in print, digital and audio from TheNeverPress.