Clean, straight lines bent
Like the contours of your being.
They crumble into nothingness,
Taking our limits with them.
Strong or soft, quick or lasting –
The reality is upon us.
It bites, not to hurt, but to mark,
To label as a part of its own fold,
To teach us that no one is unwelcomed,
No one is abandoned, as long as one is love.
Love is precious, raw:
A mountain in a trillion of valleys.
Climbing this mountain takes all,
And yet, it requires nothing of you,
But a commitment to come as you are.
The greatest obstacle is within you,
But must be found without.
Treading carefully on the paths of power,
Jumping over pitfalls of temptation,
One must give it all up to gain.