Surrender

[Eds. note: This is the fifth of 14 runner-up posts from the recent Kauai on My Mind Creative Competition.]

by Suzanna Kennedy

I surrender to the coconuts that fall unto my roof and wake me up at night
I surrender to the roosters that crow before dawn
I surrender to the mangos too numerous to harvest, that litter my yard, fermenting
I surrender to gecko poop on my furniture
I surrender to the mold that belies the moist salt air
I surrender to you, Kauai
You have stripped me naked of all
my armor and weapons
You’ve struck down my defenses against love
Defenses against vulnerability
Against intimacy
And authenticity
I’ve done battle with you, Kauai
Trying to keep your abundance at bay
To preserve my illusion of order
Trying to squeeze your love into shapes and
forms that where familiar
But why?
Those forms never worked for me anyway
Those forms were my prison
Why cling?
Why fight?
Why force and push?
Why labor at all?
I surrender to you, Kauai
You win
Go ahead and love me, anyway you want