Sometimes I think that I’m abandoned-
An empty, old house only the wind whistles through-
Yet the Beloved is that same wind-
Caressing each corner as He passes through -
And the Beloved as sun shines warmly each day-
Cooking my old wood until it pops with passion-
The Beloved as rain makes me wet again
Until the vain nails that I thought held me together rust and give way
And I release into ruins.
Even then the Beloved works as sun & rain & burrowing insects
Until-
Finally-
I break down enough to merge
wholly
into the Beloved as fertile Earth
And I totally know we are One.
--Terra Rafael
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