Space
From here, in this realm beyond form, beyond words, it is clear.
We are the wide-open sky,
rather than the bird beating its wings to pass through.
We are the acorns, burrowing deep into the ground,
rather than the squirrel scurrying to gather them before wintertime.
We are the pause
in the noise that sounds like life.
The connective tissue rather than the bones.
We are the message.
Not the wobbly words carrying it to curious ears.
Not the thoughts flitting in and out of consciousness.
Just, this.
Not I,
but rather the place where the earth meets the sky.
When we let life lift us where it will (and it will, whether we let it or not),
we can
fly