what it is not, but is 9/20/16

it is not the meaning

that arises from these thoughts that come to me,

so fulfilling.

it is not these feelings

that so complete me

being with this shower of fulfillment.

it is not from the sight

that my eyes drank with so thoroughly.

it is not the tender letter before me

that I read from with such movement and delight.

it is not the sensuousness of the script put forth

that my eyes were allowed to bathe in and wander.

it is not the deep passion of blue ink

nor the sumptuous script exploring the all of this page,

nor the inviting leaf quality of this paper,

as delicate as is, their mutual embrace.

it is not the boldness ripeness of pen

or the deftness of your graceful grasp,

nor the urging of that arm into your writing hand

that cursively persuades this, emphatic of ink,

upon the page.

it is not the stampede of those processional words

that surrendered from your mind

that so precisely thought them.

and it is not the sweet fire of emotion

from within you that pronounced these feelings

that flooded out on into those words before me.

it is none of these things, essentially.

but it is, the heart to heart in oneness,

that this immersive experience brings to me,

brings forth in me.

where we are one,

experience only kneels at the door . . .