To see before
Before seeing again,
A look back
Through the storied
Remains, sifting through
Everything that has brought
Us here, to this moment,
Holding ourselves captive
With the walls of everything
We have always believed.
And what if we choose
To believe nothing but this:
The fact of our breath
Climbing and descending
The temple, our body,
Feeding the places that hurt,
Without needing to know
Why we are hurting so,
Loving all of us, anyway.
The work of our hands,
As they reach for the heart,
To hear the sound
Of it beating, to know
That this is also the sound
Of the world’s oceans
Ebbing and flowing,
And that nothing is more
Powerful than her roars,
Her swells, her motions.
To stand under the moon
And on a bed of earth,
And find that they meet,
From above, from below,
Right where you are,
And find their source
In the very center of you,
Not as you’ve been,
Not as you will be,
But as you are now.
