I come across strange drawings of unknown critters
while vacuuming under the sofa and paste them
in my journal.
Twenty years later I come across them again
surrounded by words that I have written:
abandonment, emptiness and loss.
Somewhere between the drawings and the words
I can find the meaning of the paradox resting
among all the expressions of the divine.
And then, in fullness, completeness, accompanied
by depth and variety, I can slowly remove my shoes
and turn to see how the burning bush burns.
A Thread You Follow 