Wholeness of Sense

A flower which glistens one may dare collect

upon the old winds flowing downward with grace

shining so sharply, the base of its flight

then lingering upward in blinding delight.

Fragments of petals may finally meet

in that single moment where all feels complete

drawing a line amongst them in glow

as meaning embodied in bones starts to flow.

A wholeness of sense then does arrive

where mind in the body may quietly lie

where body is felt like never before

and fragmented pieces are separate no more.

Hovering over what mind can’t conceive

feeling, not thinking, at home there within

as deep from the tissues the hurt does so leave

and a space opens up for us both to weave.

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