The day somberly takes shape beneath
Comings and goings of many errands,
While I sift through shadows
It’s got to be here somewhere.
Where did I leave it last?
Did I put it down, distracted,
Now failing to recall it’s location?
I am not unhappy,
Just strangely subdued,
Humbled by a shifting,
A prism of full spectrum feeling:
Beautiful and bold,
Soulful, sharp and fleeting,
Soft joy changing gently.
I interact with others,
speechless somewhere inside.
So moved I am paralyzed,
Returning to the present one breath at a time.
It feels, sometimes,
As if I might dissolve entirely
Eclipsed by a greater, more vivid,
More elusive star than the sun.
Standing on the edge, frontier of my self,
I marvel at its intricacy,
How it completes the puzzle of being
Love, fragile and hesitant.
That line drawn in the sand
I’ve been staring at for hours?
I know I will cross it,
But for what reasons and what time and in what way,
Enfolds itself in mystery,
A crane born from a paper sky,
A question mark with the power
To permanently alter who I think I am.
Transparent as cascading water,
All I sought to hold onto
I am struggling with nothing.
The stars reflected
In the pools of possibility,
Collected in the land’s lost hollows,
Shine almost forgotten.
I gather them in cupped hands,
Hand them out where they’re needed.
This light I share with everyone,
It isn’t mine.
All I’ve held certain
Gets turned on its head
In the blink of an eye,
And I am fumbling in a once familiar landscape.
How am I? Indeed.
And yet, almost inconceivably,
Regarding myself like a child
Has never been easier.
So much room to grow and stumble and wonder,
A space so heart-breakingly forgiving,
It is impossible to fill it
With tears or awe or terror.
Only trust lives here,
The kind that leaves you shaking,
But somehow still safe.
A kind of ground zero:
Where we try ourselves at being,
Over and over and over,
Without attempting anything.
The ones who continually catch us,
Whether we plummet or fall flying,
Rock us to our foundations
With the caring attention given to newborns.
So that in the moments we let go,
Suddenly we wake
And briefly remember our origins,
Imprinted as they are the heart of us.