I see one fall to the ground and become dust.
From dust we come, to dust we return.
The dust is cleared from my eyes.
We are not dust, but dust cloaks the silence and gives it form so we may see, touch, hold,
let go
the dust is cleared from my eyes
they blink wetly,
I look with the other eye
he is present suddenly, everywhere
as he always is, always was
a thousand eyes, a thousand hands, a thousand feet
so still and so sweet
perfection is too small a word for this
perfection does not hold my little hands in his, so gently,
knowing my fear and petty attachments
still
loving me with such warmth
giving me, unasked, unanswerable,
worlds,
dreams beyond my dreaming
I fall at his feet, over and over
I place my head everywhere,
A spider plant in a mason jar
a picture on an alter
a keyboard
I place my head
on his feet, which are everywhere,
everywhere
