If Only Just a Pinpoint

Dear Ones, I am currently sitting at a European airport, waiting for my two-hours-delayed flight and making peace with the fact that I will miss my next connection. It was a jarring arrival — with most folks moving more aggressively than the folks at O’Hare (if you can believe it.) And with the help of skillful service desks and quiet spaces, I am rebalancing. Today’s draft is inspired by this whole process.

It was so easy to see the shine near the Mediterranean

where every eye holds light reflected off the sea and

heat could easily be mistaken

for the embrace of the endless field of love.

It’s harder here where no one meets my eyes,

the ceiling hovers heavy, close to the gray-black floor,

gates operate with relentless clean efficiency.

Hold a soft gaze, allow the scrim of sleepiness to stay,

remember the buoyancy of a body in the sea waves —

This is how to find the light in every hardened eye.

Sometimes it’s just a pinpoint,

hard to see behind swollen lids and smudged glasses.

Sometimes it hides around sleep-crusted corners.

Sometimes — with an inhale — it arises so completely from the field of love

I can feel it in my own heartbeat,

in our bodies, fragile rafts that carry us

over and across the waters to each other.