Everything is so much larger
and so much smaller
than we think.
To sit and see
into the soul of things
is an uncommon privilege.
We wait and watch
wonders unfurl,
notice and nod,
barefoot and bowing
to the holy mystery,
the Beloved’s heart beating
in the center of each
created thing,
mirroring,
as we do, the shape of
the mystery.
Let me let go
into the Beloved,
besotted as I am;
let me deep dive
into the butterfly’s wing,
the spiral of the shell,
the mystery of it all,
which has always only
been Love.