I reached out
and I fell.
I fell into myself
my deep, deep well
and was washed over with relief
to know that I cannot harm myself
for I will always be there.
Like a child tottering along the edge of a rail and
the mother who won’t let her -.
Because it is back with myself where all things reside
where the moon is the richest
and I can safely lie on my back
in the summer dewy night
and look up
eyes awonder, up at the stars
private and safe
the sweetness of the night.
It is in the well
where the sacred resounds
with edges and echoes
that reach far beyond its thick moss.
It is here where the dreaming is strong
the mind is at peace
and the churning, more meaning
Chaos reaches high above the sky
order sifts between its heat waves
dust sinks and rises
patterns on the land
and I go,
traveling far within the crevices
the ravaging land, untamed
yet holding wildness only in moments
when the wind turns to look at you
or me or them
and then the storm picks
one of us
and we fall back within
to realize that we
have never left
that the beauty in awe is remembering.