It Matters

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It matters that you smile
or don't smile 
at the person 
you don't know 
in the coffee shop. Whether 
they smile back

It matters that you let 
yourself speak on canvas, with pen
and paper - on the keys 
of the old piano, that you let 
hands shape what is real and true
out of soft, breathing clay

or whether 
you push the call
away until some other 
someday - a someday 
that may or may not come

It matters that you listen 
to the beat of your one 
and only wild drum, the beat 
that drums 
drums drums through warm blood 
and veins, that you share 
your holy song 
like it's your very last chance

That you stand up even when you think you can't

You can tell yourself lies
you can say it doesn't matter
but the smart part of you knows 
the truth, pain will be your loyal 
reminder, always pointing you back 
to what matters

You are here now - here
now. Someday you won't be
will you listen or wait? 
Will you wait

or listen?