My Beloved, your empathy is infinite
It is a bag of compassion that never runs out.
At the rarest of moments when it’s empty
When I am undeserving
Your silence is louder, there is always plenty.
Forgive my life of avarice that rips your strings!
But…how can a hole make one whole Beloved?
For your leaks endlessly trickle like a stream
Soothing desolate lands into meadows
And yet miraculously, there you still are
In the headwaters!
My Beloved, how bountiful is your empathy?
It’s a bag of compassion that never runs out.