Show me the weariest part of you,
the soft and sodden heart of you
that trembles in the silence and in the absence
Show me the darkest thoughts that come
like twisting shadows, blocking the sun.
Show me the fractures,
the wild projections of your lens.
I’ll show you the tender root of me,
the shaking child
and the soaking leaves,
all the concepts and lies
on which my Self depends.
And we’ll see then, in the cloud of our gloom,
the spacious sky
and the strawberry moon,
and the love and the light
that burn without end.