The Kingdom Is

The kingdom
is up to you. Like
the manette

the cashier hands you
at the grocer’s — “your turn”;
“c’est à vous.

Gens du pays,
c’est votre tour
we sing and it comes

to the same thing
does the kingdom: room
de vous laisser

parler d’amour.
Stepping into love
is up to you.

The manette is in your hand,
the kingdom. Punch in.
Here it comes —

never so simple
never yet refused!
There’s room, the debit paid

you know not how.
Oh, you know the dark fires

and you know they are quenched:
your dark fires, your own, your wrath

by the simple act of
punching in your identity —
admitting. “This is me.”

You’re in.
That’s how the kingdom
works.