And while it’s true
that knowledge of self is
required before you can
love, truly love, you must
also have a healthy
faith in the unknown,
an appreciation for
the wind that blows
from you know not where,
that stirs the sea and
leads it to strange shores
where you may never see
the sky in the blue that
used to be so familiar
you thought it universal.
The silences, as much a part
of the music you so love
as the notes, as needful
of mastery, of audience,
the truths yet to be
discovered, with which
a spirit in harmony with
its own unfolding story
needs no prior encounter
to call itself prepared
to form a lasting covenant,
the setting of a movie
that provides more
than a backdrop,
more than a vessel
for things to happen in,
but acts as a character
of sorts in the plot,
with caprices and charms
and can, in turns
be friend, then foe,
then a mere face in the crowd
you pass somewhere
in busy downtown,
all the roads you’ve never walked,
all the winters that didn’t fall,
the stones you left unturned,
the what ifs and changes of heart,
and the voices of chance
both listened to and defied,
are in your hands,
pieces of the same puzzle.
And the knowing of self
breathes in the pauses where
more beauty is possible.
Embracing the not knowing
is part of it.
So is kissing your fears.
So is trusting the part
of you that’s been wrong
so many times before.
To Arrive, To Occupy
The way your heart treasures the light
The way your heart treasures the light
that almost blinded you,
that burned away instead
the cataracts, the sense of smallness
towards which your biases were leaning,
electrified the fences around your comfort zone
and left you with so much less
than what you had when you started
that you could hate it,
but to your credit you looked the other way
and saw a finally unobstructed view
of how you could find your way nonetheless,
the way you could hold the sword
that was forged to destroy you
while assuming to give dignity to your undoing,
hold it with the utmost reverence
and match the perfect edge of the blade
with the iron butterfly grace in your soul
that has received enough blows
another cut could only work in your favor
and render you less damaged
the way the sun exposes
the valleys where
the sadness hides
like paper shadows
you’ve asked the stillness
where your song fits,
and this is its answer.
