Hopeless

Hopeless
devoid of identity
I crawl into a hole and wait
for what happens next.

Gestation means going
inside
and then going inside
again.

Until the tunnel opens onto
a plateau at the ceiling
of the world.

From here nothing can hide
from my eyes and
my knowing.

All the shame
and the endless beauty
stretched out over the face
of the universe.

I now truly know what is “I”
and I see what I thought was “I”
what they told me was “I”.
None of it was ever true.

What I am is greater than I can
Contain
like a river that has flooded
its banks
I can’t help but spill
All
of who
and what
I am
Everywhere.

And so everywhere I walk
Thirsty people call out
“Thank you!”

I bow
Knowing that what has quenched
Them, is something I cannot control
Only allow.

Grace means saying
“You’re welcome”
For the eternally silent
Force, which nourishes all
And is never reduced
Knowing that it can never be
Possessed
Or known
Only,
Felt.