It Is Possible
by Vikram Kolmannskog

Action is possible.
Asking is possible.
Art is possible.
Aurora borealis, this bright northern light, is possible.

Banyan, this great tree spreading out through aerial roots and further through fruits eaten by little birds, is possible.
Body, my brilliant body, is possible.
Bombing is possible.
Breathing, this affirmation of life and my presence, this letting go, this connecting to plants and everything, is possible.

It is possible.
It is possible.

Chanda Vyas, female Hindu priest, moonlight in the night, is possible.
Change is possible.
Cloud, this shifting soft shape in the sky, these millions of water droplets, is possible.
Compassion and expanding beyond my ego, a little liberation, is possible.
Connecting is possible.
Conversation is possible.
Crossing over is possible.

Dancing is possible.
Dying is possible.

Earth, this mother, smell of moist soil and feeling of soft moss, is possible.
Ecstasy, this surge of love, swirling together, ascending, is possible.
Embracing, feeling his breath and heartbeat, this short moment together, is possible.

It is possible.
It is possible.

Fantasy is possible.
Fantasy is always possible.
Flirting is possible.
Forgiving is possible.
Freedom is possible.
Friendship is possible.
Fucking is possible.

Giving is possible.
God is possible.
Grace, surrendering and seeing this, is possible.

It is possible.
It is possible.

Heaven here and now is possible.
Holding my own hand, holding his, being held, is possible.
Holocaust, this bureaucratic beast, grotesque genocide, is possible.
Home, coming home, is possible.
Homosexuality, our brave love, is possible.

I am possible.

Jacaranda, purple in bloom, is possible.
Jesus is possible.
Jihad, even the greater, Gandhi's satyagraha, women's liberation, confronting myself, is possible.

It is possible.
It is possible.

Kissing, on the cheek like little children, on the forehead like guru or God, or even tongues struggling like passionate wrestlers, is possible.

Laughing is possible.
Letting go is possible.
Listening is possible.
Living is possible.
Love is possible.
Love is always possible.

It is possible.
It is possible.

Music, this voice, this instrument, this soul, is possible.

Nature, this ant, this plant, this mountain, this light fountain, is possible.
Nirvana, no-thing-ness, is possible.

Obama and yes we can, yes, it is possible.
Ocean, this vastness of waves reflecting the blue above, yet with deep calm below, is possible.
Opening up and receiving is possible.

It is possible.
It is possible.

Passion is possible.
Peace is possible.
Photosynthesis, this creation of food and oxygen out of light, water and CO2, these precious plants making us possible, this is possible.
Playing is possible.
Pleasure and pain is possible.
Poetry is possible.
Pyramid and people making this structure still standing is possible.

Questioning is possible.

Racism is possible.
Rain, these small cooling drops falling indiscriminately, is possible.
Rape is possible.
Refuge, remaining untouched, unharmed somewhere within, is possible.
Refusing is possible.
Resource, some source found within, is possible.
Revolution and the overthrow of oppressors is possible.

It is possible.
It is possible.

Screaming is possible.
Silence is possible.
Singing, this human, this bird, this whale, is possible.
Sky and looking at this vastness above, expanding my self, is possible.
Smelling, this smell of his sleep and his skin, is possible.
Smiling to him or even smiling unnecessarily to a stranger, a kind gesture, is possible.

Snow, this sparkling white falling from the sky, this complex crystal stinging slightly and melting in my hand, is possible.
Space shuttle, human beings shooting out into space, is possible.
Spider spinning a web out of his body is possible.
Starfish under water healing himself is possible.
Sunshine, this flooding through windows and my eyes making me light, is possible.

It is possible.
It is possible.

Torture, these stories too many to be told here, is possible.
Touching him somewhere, till now, untouched, for example, softly under his knee, is possible.
Truth is possible.
Trusting myself and another is possible.
Turning my head around and seeing something new is possible.

Understanding is possible.
Union is possible.

Voluptuous thought is possible.

Waking up slowly with the sun shining in on us is possible.
We are possible.
Witnessing all this and myself is possible.

It is possible.
It is possible.

X, an unknown variable, is possible.

You are possible.

Zero is possible.
Zooming in is possible.
Zooming out is possible.