Chalice

Breathe out everything

you are against.

Surrender the argument.

For just an instant

be nothing

in the gentle palm

of desolation.

Inhalation, exhalation,

wings of unknowing

that brush up your spine,

ringing each vertebra

like a bell-full of night.

If your heart is broken,

it must have opened

in the bleakest hour

just before dawn.
Whatever opens is a door.

A Friend must have

touched you there

while you were sleeping.

Enter the wound,

this healing pain,
this flower surge of yearning

beneath your sternum.

There is no other way

to the darkness

that illuminates the sun.

Wonder without thought.

It only takes a moment

to turn each cell 

in your body to a golden 

chalice of fire.
_______________

Hear this poem read aloud: LINK
Art: Greg Spalenka