outside the door
speaking in song
I ask myself
Am I truly listening
or am I merely waiting
to speak?
We must often do the impossible
and reconcile the world
with our own heart.
I grow older but I do not grow
more numb to the world.
I grow older and I feel myself
a greater part of humanity.
My joy and disappointment
are mirror images.
I grow older and realize
I must be gentle with
the fractured and broken.
All of us are so.
I grow older and cannot
consume blindly and
without thought.
I must have restraint.
Does the deer dream?
Does it dream of the forest?
Of fresh water?
A quiet valley?
A land without fear?
Some mornings
I sit and must remind myself
that no feeling is final
that I must breath
that this is all there is
this eternal present
this perpetual gift
All these words
All these thoughts
like leaves on a tree
sharing a branch
sharing a body
living
changing
returning home
at last
