There are
these times
when you
pass me
the cup
of yourself.
You
actually hand it to me
with your
words,
from
where they come from
within
you.
You reach
through
what
appears to be
and hand
me this cup of you
and I
look over the brim
to see an
enormity within you.
You are
more space
than I
can
experientially
breathe in
and savor
forthright.
You are
more light
than I
can take on to embrace.
These
words,
as
invitation to me,
have gone
on from there
and the
meaning, as invitation,
is melted
into me now.
For I
have left that mind of mine
for
deeper pastures present,
where
awareness grows
beyond
what answers
would
provide.
I am
drinking from there,
what I
always knew to be
but did
not know how to know.
Now, just
knowing
is the
lesser state.
Vague, as
memory
gives way
to being.
What I
relish from you
replenishes,
without
diminishment
of your
offering.
And I
linger from there
to here,
timelessly
spellbound
and richly
absorbing . . .
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