in january
amid all this flurry
it dropped (sweet relief)
honey from the tree
into my open mouth:
there is no need to pray.
i am the prayer

so i said to this tree
i want to be invisible
and the tree said
be like me
so utterly and completely yourself
that no one sees you

everything is always pointing
at something
i can’t fucking see
it reminds me of when i was young
and everyone else could read

there is no life and
no death
no me and
no you
there is just us
meeting each other
over and over
until the dry husk of everything
that is not Love
is worn away

allow the heart
for she is the way
the sweet soft arrow
pointing home
pointing to the only sweetness
available round here:
the whole of the world as good.

allow the heart

and i am reaching with my two arms
(as though it lives outside of me!)
for the place
for the thing
for the only thing that matters