Space within that which is full.
Teetering on a tight rope.
Spinning, a yoyo circling
up and down, up and down.
Sometimes I get caught
futilely spinning at the bottom.
Deep, deep in murky waters.
Tumbling…
Waves pounding, crashing, thrashing.
Which way is up?
Breathe, I must breathe.
Frantic effort to no avail.
Then a calm washes over.
In stillness, I float up to light.
Breaking free from the surface, gasping.
Float, just float.
Sunlight, suddenly intense and piercing.
Water cradles me, wrapped in sublime presence
stronger than space,
while space steadily moves in and out.
Birds soar above.
The deep yearning to fly unattached,
feeling space both within and encompassing.
Floating beyond the water.
Far away, yet intensely present.
Suddenly a wave crashes again.
Churns, tossing me back into dark waters.
Threatening suffocation, disorientation,
despair.
Finding balance on the water is hard,
a lifelong challenge.
Staying on dry land is safer, space to breathe,
but the presence of air is subtle.
Deep in the watery depths,
pressure is strong
and space is far away.
We were made neither to fly above,
or swim below.
We must walk, float,
balancing earth, water and space within.
