Sacred Space

So often I come to you quietly
and say nothing.
We sit silently in the aura of infinity
and dissolution,
somewhere in between truth and despair
(or perhaps they are two sides of the same leaf,
fallen gently from the tree of Being).
So rather, in some part of one vast ocean,
where everything is mixed together--

I'd like to think that the truth is something good,
that won't leave me wanting.
For when I sit with you,
I am deprived of nothing.

This space is sacred.

I rest with you in a cloud, a whirlwind--
the eye of the storm, where the messiness of reality
and peace
are one.