In Stillness, Gazing
A part of me grew familiar with the longing,
That part would like to become
as familiar with ease in union
now that I know "how to feel."
With each touch you teach me, with each breath
you draw me out of myself.
My soul only longs for the day I forget this longing
now that love bridges distance.
I used to walk out along this path, before dawn,
before I could see you, as me.
Follow not these words,
they are still only "a reaching."
The breath is the closest thing we have to waves
moving toward and from the silence,
a powerful touch to free that busy one,
who was habitually afraid of not knowing.
In stillness, gazing,
we are told everything about each other,
everything about the self.
Everything passes through the silence
before it is born.