I Dare You

I dare you to crave
something more than
pillow-induced commas.

Dare you to stretch,
out of the spells
of bewitching sheets
and coffin-like beds.

Dare you to laugh
in the face of
inclement weather.

Tell thunder,
you smelled its stench
of intimidation
and you are armed
with a dynamite smile,
an eviction notice
for “bad days.”

Tell lightening,
that your flashes of brilliance
has a search warrant for the heavens,
and best believe
Thor’s hammer will be confiscated.

I dare you
to tell rain,
that Mr. Meteorologist
has placed you
in its weekly forecast,
that your chances
of precipitating jubilation
exceeds 100%.

I dare you
to make your reign
unconditionally
legendary.

You are not myth,
not just mass.
You are not flint,
born to be ash.
You are,
more than a prediction of excellence,
the sum of possibilities,
mistakes,
worries,
failures,
second-guesses.

You are,
riding on the wind of success
aching to leave doubt
in your wake.
You are,
a bad day’s double dare
it’d never venture to take.

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