liminalit

I sat under the tree that you showed me.
I wrapped my arms and felt you in it.
But you were not the tree.

I sprinted until my body and soul suffered; my spirit sprang forth and
I felt you coursing through my pulsing veins.
But you were not my blood.

I heard you in the child’s laugh
As we played together on the floor.
But you were not the child.

I listened to you in the songs the bird sang
When I walked down the path
And you told me to sing my song, and not worry about the others,
But you were not the song.

On the hammock in which I lay
Next to the stream where young voices sang with delight
As they pulled empty shells from the creek bed
While light trickled through the canopy,
All eternity folded into and out of me!
The bush burned forever within my heart!
And you were in everything – that eternal moment,
But you were not the moment.

You are in everything!
Yet you are no thing!
I reach out to grasp you, and there is nothing in my hand.
I let go and resign and disintegrate, and you are all around me, even in me.
In you are all things, great mystery.
And only in nothing have I found all of you,
Everything.