I am sitting here,
both empty and full,
at home in the space
between in breath and out --
a place with no name
and no need for one.

Dream though it is,
what I feel in this moment
is more real
than anything or anyone
I know,
a bubbling up from within,
an arrival,
a coming home.

Here in this field of pure delight
every river that has ever
found its way to the sea
disappears
into the secret chamber of my heart.

Time stops.
Space, too.

Silent and content,
I am a child
just before learning to speak,
stunned, present,
moved only
by a still forming
impulse to praise.

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