Not truly knowing where
anything begins, or ends--
we're appeased by appearances...
this includes ourselves.
Yet we are capable of extending
a love far beyond ourselves.
It is when that which we've
loved is delivered from appearance--
that we're utterly consumed
by what's been unanchored.
That we're tried by every size
and shape of absence in the form
of emotion...disbelieving we held
such a space within ourselves,
as was held for us.
Convulsively appealing with
this little vessel...till whose
sea becomes mirroring calm.