At a loss…

At a loss…

for words.

And, yet…they steep
from this pen

running over the cup
filling spaces all around
the saucer
the bubbling liquid
of fluid—
and vowels.

At a loss…
a bridge forms
allowing me to cross
the uncharted stream
of fluidity.

Rising inside of me
a tide—
from where it comes
I do not know.
Nor, does it matter.

At this loss,
I am finding what
flows from within the
‘spring’ I AM

Without needing
any longer
direction, ideas, thoughts, guidelines
rules—from others.

I trust what pools
from the hid-den depths
of my being—
treasure chests of GAIN…
gold fashioned from
the fire
cooled by the waters
dripping over me.

The sea
I have become—
Vast, open, timeless—
fierce, calm, soothing,
tumultuous, unending.

At a loss,
I step ashore
gather my breath
and jump back in.

The splash—
a single drop.
I am alive in all the ripples
finding rest in every wake.

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