A metaphor cannot possibly contain
An outpouring of love like
No matter which words come and be here,
To rest with us a while,
Their lines are so much more
Rough, than the gentle rolling of
The ocean in my body.
When I’m cracked open like this,
I can’t help but feel inadequate.
Fumbling to express something so intangible and
I am an infant trying to verbalize the
Bewildering symphony I experience
All that comes out is the babbling
Of a dove.
I blush, and decide to sit
In this silent ecstasy, held
In the lap of the Beloved.
I just wanted to let you know,
There’s room for you,