I sit in the still darkness of early morning. The silence holds me tenderly in its velvety weightlessness.
Hold onto nothing, it seems to whisper. Allow everything in.
I breathe out and let everything go. Everything rushes in.
I breathe in and hold onto nothing. Everything rushes out.
You are the ocean, the velvety silence whispers. You are the sky. The moon and stardust. You are the everything of nothing but Love. There is no need to run or hide or jump up and down for attention. There is no need to yearn or hammer your fists against the universe and sink down into a puddle of weeping sorrow. No need to search for answers or meaning. There is only this nothingness of everything you are when you hold onto nothing and let everything in.
I breathe. In. Again.
Deep. Deep into my belly.
I feel. Deep. Deep in my belly the everything of nothing I hold onto.
I breathe. Out. Again.
Deep. Deep from my belly.
I feel. Deep into the space around me, deep into the darkness of this still silent morning the nothingness of everything I let go of.
And I know without knowing. I feel without feeling. Deep. Deep within my being. Deep in the presence of this moment, that this is the nothing and the everything of all I am. All I can be. All I need. All I want and desire. All of everything I let go of. All of everything I let in.
This is the everything of nothing but what remains when I hold onto nothing.
Breathing deep, I sat in the still darkness of morning.
And that’s where Love found me.
_________________
“My Morning Read”
This morning, as part of my commitment to read a poem every morning, I read Mark Nepo’s, Where is God
And this is what appeared.
Dare Boldly 
LG,
This prose is poetry – it reads like butter.
It feels like a song … maybe you should team up with a musician (I believe you have some of that expertise in your family how might help or connect you with an appropriate composer) … there is something incredibly powerful in these words. It’s not because it’s a week for sentiment – these words are timeless
m
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh my. Thank you Mark. Your words feel like butter on my heart… no wait. butter on heart. not good. Flow like honey. 🙂 I know. I always have to insert a little humour in the discomfort of praise.
But seriously. Thank you. Your words mean a lot — and yes, there are musicians in the family and what a lovely idea! I shall chat with them…
Many bags of nothing but gratitude my friend.
LikeLike
to me, several of those lines and couplets could be a refrain … and I imagine several stanzas from the rest – maybe in spoken/sung style like Leonard Cohen, of maybe more rap-ish like Shane Koyczan. In any case, these are magical words you’ve written … so why not a hit song?
LikeLike
❤
LikeLike
What a wonderful idea – to read a piece of poetry per day.
I agree with Mark… your prose does read like poetry.
LikeLike
Thank you Dale — I’m loving the reading and letting it inspire me Dale. I don’t always share what I write from the poem — but it is always soul-satisfying. ❤
LikeLike
What a wonderful post and great idea
LikeLike
Thank you Joanne. ❤ It's quite fun!
LikeLike