Store-Bought Buddha

I’ve burned
all of the sage,
but I am
barely on fire.

I’ve counted
every inhale
and exhale of air
and still came up
short of breath.

I’ve sat in silence
only to unpause
an explosion
of thought.

I’ve kissed
cold hands,
hoping to come away
with a warm
and friendly touch,

and then I realized

that no amount of incense,
no quiet meditation,
no body
can hold what
makes me whole.

I hope to remember
that the world
needs nothing
from me
but my authenticity
and willingness
to be human

in the moments
when I can not
conjure
temporary magic.