Stay a while, still.
Less like the wind,
more like the ground you stand on…
Stray, to where? With whom?
In the end we must choose ourselves
over and over.
We could not tell you sooner—
you had to ask the question first,
had to wonder why….
That something
you feel called to,
the almost-voice you hear…
Knowing that the anchor
was thrown too far from the boat
all that time ago
reunion can’t come soon enough.
There is no sense of time lost
or of a life wasted
when you finally know who you are.
You come here listening
for you don’t know what,
as if you lost something,
as if here you’ll see the answer
riding in on the waves…
Your vast soul,
that seabed on which
the ocean of you rests,
holds every part of you