Think of what the self is like when unused
lie all the measuring tapes and scales,
the mirror that torments with imperfections,
and the magazine collage of desired details.
Instead, think of the breath that animates,
slowly drawn in to expand an ivory cage,
the softest touch of breeze out across lips,
and the steady heart beating, calm as a sage.
Think of how broad and deep your loves lie,
to release tempestuous Future and all its fears.
Think of how high and wide your hopes stretch,
and purge the sorrows past with free-falling tears.
Feel the anchoring ground beneath your feet
for it is true, even when ever-present is despair,
it requires solid footing on the blessed earth
to construct dreamscape castles in the air.
Perhaps, in such a practice, it becomes clear:
shape is better defined by what we hold dear.
