Friday, September 26, 2014

Whirlpool eye

What space this is!
to refine and remind myself,
that I can lean against You—
it was not that You were gone,
but the tides rushed in and You submerged.
I’m glad you took a part of me with You,
the part that forgets how to be armor,
and even in the sinking, I
stayed, somehow, buoyant
in poem and flute song and labyrinth walks.
Spiraling, all of it, whirlpooling down and in,
but in the eye of all that,
I saw bottom
and it was a reflection of the wide blue sky.
That’s when learned to smile again.


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