“The gaps are the thing.
The gaps are the Spirit's one home,
the altitudes and latitudes
so dazzlingly spare and clean
that the spirit can discover itself
like a once-blind man unbound."
- Annie Dillard
I live
in the space
between
in the holy
gap
the crevice
filled only with
the promise
of
an earthbound
tear
finding its
sure release
between the here
and there
welling up
from the infinite
Unseen,
a wellspring of
hope
delivering
something I cannot
see,
but feel
the way the
blind hear the
sigh of a
single
rose
blooming
and the deaf
feel the pulsing of
tomorrow's
dawn as it rises
over crag and cliff to
greet
another day
I have made my
home in the space between
a once-upon-a-time
yesterday
and the
yet-to-be-seen
tomorrow
between now
and
then,
or
sometime when
a past forgotten
or
a future
imagined
I dwell in
this moment
only
I let it carry me
between,
above,
around,
below
whatever would
disturb
the stillness i breathe
as deeply as
an infant
in this
sanctuary of
trust
this is the space
where
i do not make choices
to
grow,
or wait,
or flow --
where
it is not in me to
reach,
or grasp,
or hold too tight
it is
here
that i
wait to feel
the
stirring of a silent
something
i cannot name
the
pull of the sun
upon a turning leaf,
the call to
go deeper
that
echoes in the
heart of every
root
seeking
her
anchor
the scent of water
piercing
the stone --
the
voice of
the turtle
calling me
home
"Tremble
thou earth
at the presence of the Lord;
which turned the
rock into standing water,
and the flint
into fountains
of
water...”
~ Psalms
