Somewhere deep inside the chest, perhaps
between the lungs and certainly behind
the jailhouse ribs, is a little box of OKness.

We were born with this box
and we will die with this box, but for
most of our lives we forget it’s there.

Instead, we occupy ourselves with our
day-to-day. We launch careers
and start families, we cook dinners
and watch movies. There’s pleasure
and there’s sadness.
And most of all, there’s fear
and there’s regret.

Sometimes, when we climb a mountain
or make love, we remember
the little box, and we say:
I’m joyful, I’m at home, I’m OK
with everything that is
and everything that happens.

We desire that OKness to last forever
but then we get distracted
and think about pensions
and spaghetti and cellphones
and beer.

Isn’t it odd? We have this little box
of OKness inside us
yet we seldom know it’s there.