what shall i call you

5.2.05
revised 11.22.06
and still thinking

we could have seen it at every exhale, had our eyes been so open. in creation. in your rains; in unexpected lessons on the shorelines of puddles; we have yet seen not ourselves, but you reflected.

our reach extends as far as the pleats at the edge of your dress; grasping. you meet us. when you love despite this careless desire to run sand along calloused hands. when you remind, gently yet again, of one stanch option. into your unseen eyes, dewy, like the sea. like tears, bigger than our resistance. they envelop us, your eyes. ourselves no longer present yet reflected. a third of your unseen face, which is also everything, replaces ashen, human fillings.

creation meets logic in a prismatic way that eludes. web of time and space we label soul, wedged between circumstance; sensing something near within our grasp that commands all accident. you reach to meet us in tangible moments. sacrificially, breaking your ocean into manageable puddles that bathe, alone, on the shores of our timeline.

you keep all your promises. tap our deepest corners and draw, as if by your own blood, praises to a universe in whom doubt finds no employment. you cover the fissure like a scar; a healed reminder that you will never reopen wounds arbitrarily. you stay. regardless of how we treat you; you stay. regardless of how poorly we love; your love covers it. breaking our resistance.

you not only nourish, but you do this outside of time; never with poison, but out of love, as we find habit in faulty pastures. without your wisdom we would easily misname our miracles, yet this does not deter. for you understand what it is to be human; you made it your charge. and thus charged us with the test to accept.

you not only offer, but have faculty to fill. the distinctive soul-shaped hole that you let in. you built us hungry so that you would have the pleasure to love; so that we would have the delight of its incident. you satisfy with joy; the sound we use to describe something more than temporal. a moment, or a lifetime, in which we are suddenly
whole.

you are everything equal to justice; all that goodness claims without need for interpretation. you are what takes time to make sense of, because you are what begs to be found in its completeness; no shred of false construal can compose your intention.

you are always just on the other side. of the door we choose to break; of the cracks in our wall if we peer out to find reason; of the eyes with which we suddenly have the strength to behold the world. and you are on our side. molding the parts that are more than human, that seek beyond this world. into your depths the deep in us cries, and needs not cry far; you are here.

and i do not know what to call you.

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