BEING WITH
Still got pain, anxiety,
like a sheath of paper I bend over
with self-absorbed accounting
Simultaneously wrangling with it like
a barbed trap, yet denying its call
to be acknowledged
Forgetting being with
largely oblivious to the
circulating lovingness
The circulating lovingness of the
amniotic swish, the universe
around me
Love
something that caresses,
like a cat’s tail touching my legs
A voice welcomed
like the savior of forgiving nutrition
Like being with and spreading open,
laying out my pain and healing it
with breathing air
Working on developing habits, relief
opening the sheath to let my tension dry out
Opening it
taking the stress
in my heart, my throat, my everything–
all that’s on the sheath–
I’m spreading it out
to let in relief
Not heroin in terms of being a numbed spectator
Rather, a lubricated spectator with
the aspirin of awareness
A sieve that soothes both its contents
and what goes through it
Grace of encountering
remembering, good habit,
applying learning,
being with
~ Lady