Monday Morning 7:30
I awake from dreaming I am coming to you
Not the you of my soul, myself, but my confusion and pain.
I spent the last year there, perhaps lifetimes in chaos
Avoiding the harder work of just being present with myself now.
So I return to this practice of being, each breath, this one.
So many, many thoughts, all embraced, all released
Like all my loves, held too long, never truly met
Wanting some person or idea to take care of me
As if anyone, can offer ground to even themselves.
This joy of pain, this tender surrender to suffering
The destruction of all the past. It has only brought me
To this morning, so full of gratitude for the beauty
Outside my door, within my heart, all the love
I heave received, and given onward, away.
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