Touching that leaf
And an eye to see it
Breath coming
When you've always doubted
Your own strength
A caress from the air
That you swim in
Which opens your heart into joy
A world of mirrors and doors
Keys and mysteries
A world of comfort and a knife edge of tragedy
Bring me poetry, beauty, wilderness
I touch the ground
Glimpse belonging and benevolence
Again I am out of my depth
And in the darkness of my own limitations
But breathing gentle timelessness
Everything made of hope, threaded along the cloth, weaving, weaving we are, and woven.
Touching east, I lift my face. And then it's South, becomings beyond my knowing. Ah, the West, taking what must go. And North, pulling me home beyond home.
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