The sky will tell you
what it’s like
to live without walls,
how to weather change,
how we must learn
to find our equanimity
in the constant flux
of this place.

That there is a trick
to balancing on the cusp
of how you thought
things would be
and how things are…

then letting your shape
drift like the continents
of clouds.

There is a holy rhythm
to this time and space,

I hear it as the rain falls.

I see it in the gentle dance
of dark and light,
the warm of sun
always returning to this
beggar’s heart whose palm
lays open in supplication
to love.

I can almost reach it as I stretch
towards the seam of horizon.

Someday I will run
where the sea meets the sky,
cast myself into the grace of
this change.

And there I will find
myself free.