Even the forest fire smoke
that triggers a head ache
and stings my eyes…
that is

The heat
of these rainless days
that makes me squirm
and itch in bed…

The darkest memory,
the one
where love died
and died again
leaving what felt like none…

All those trips
down all those rivers
with their rapids
and glassy waters…

And when my boat tips
and I am submerged
in a roiling churn,
even this,
with water shooting up my nose
and breath vacating my lungs…

But! the mind screams,
how could those tears,
that pain,
be Love?

Because, says the One,
with a single tear
the whole Universe
washes clean.

Every hollow
howl in the night
chases the smoke away.

And through that drowning
in the river,
the heart dives into
the very core of creation,
the home
of the One.

And where the One lives,
so does
the true self,
which is…

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