What is in between?
Not the tensions of here and there
And where to be,
But underneath?
Breathed into being by the flow of waters
That never cease;
A dark, a light,
Within each other,
But besides them both,
In naming do I make a dance of it;
Do I become entranced within the pains
And pleasures
Of my romanticized notions
To call what is?
What is left, what is there
Before the thoughts, the feelings, the maybe or maybe not;
Do I collide with destiny?
Do I drift into the stillness of it all?
Seeing all my declarations,
my statements and descriptions;
It pains me to admit
My failure to contain it.
May these attempts abate;
May my grabbing, grasping,
Be satiated, laid to rest
Within this space of space.
This, I find, the holiest of ways.
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