I come back to this space
As to an old friend for
An afternoon’s assignation—
Yet the lover is me.
I slide into this space of myself
An enormous pool
As spacious and neutral
As a city where no one is home.
Yet I am home.
I wander the streets of myself.
I sunbathe in a piazza empty even of pigeons
At great horses ramped in bronze above a fountain
I step from sunwarmed stone into welcome water
Swim with the ancient dolphins
Clad only in my ancient skin.
This is my place
And there is no one here to judge me.
I bend to sort the coins
That litter the fountain’s bottom.
These are my little wishes,
Flung like petals into the well of my intention.
From the fountain, I wander the streets to the market.
I choose succulent fruit,
Until I am ready
–From Tapping The Well Within