Some things are too big to be processed

Too difficult, too tragic

Not suited for fitting into 

Neat little boxes

Bigger than words


In any tidy, clean-up-any-trace kinda sense.

Some things defy understanding –

Even if our tiny brains clamor for and demand it.

Some things just beg for 

Peace –

As in quiet, and time, and protection.

Some things are too much for us:

And yet we’re invited into them all the same.

Some things are sacred

And ought to be treated as such –

Carefully, quietly, beseechingly

As seekers:

Not as ones ready to impose any will of our own

But as wide-eyed children:

Ready, open, and open-handed to receive good gifts, 

– whatever they may be –

Wise direction

As given by the Giver

Not to be infringed upon by lesser ways of being

That we may be ready and willing to share on.

That we may be ready and willing to share on.

Oh, make us so…


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