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.