The Blue Book

How You Love

It’s true, what you told me,
all that time ago and right now:

I need to feel how you love,
how it is your heart holds together
this infinity,
how you give it back
when it comes due;
let it go
as if that had been the trick
to making meaning of the beat,
to feeling compassion like blood
returned on a tide
that tells of ten thousand things
never to be known.

And we, people of the sky,
who came here on a flight of birds,
or riding rain animals like
those old keepers of the kumm,
standing on another edge
with a few simple words
about what it felt like
to give up,
feel the Earth itself
move through you
and explode.

Then fear, and tears,
a hundred lifetimes of surrender,
before grace and gratitude:

to feel how you love.


The Book

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