I don’t know you anymore,
and it is so refreshing.

Now that I see your impermanence,
you are impossible to know.
It was a silly and burdensome charade,
adding lines and labels
to forms that refuse to be controlled
or contained.

You are not silly anymore. If anything,
you are sacred.
Not sacred like a temple, or even
a vessel of God.
Your sacredness is so much simpler,
so much closer to the ground.

You are leaves, scampering across
a verdant plane.
You are breath, coming and going,
without notice or ado.
You are a sheet on the clothesline
summer zephyrs billow through.

You are not formless,
but have no form.
New in every moment,
you can never be known.

And it is so refreshing.



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