I want only to be open; heart cracked wide enough to see clearly the way to you. It is a practice. Each moment a path before me leading me there to the center where the beginning begins. Anew. What of the way of my soul, how it longed again and again for time to tick forward toward yes? And now do I sit at the table surrounded by a bounty never before known, an abundance beyond my ability to comprehend, yet it is the fruit of my every intention. I sat long in the quiet with my body stilled in order to hear the way. I leaned in with such tilt that my feet nearly left the place of their standing. This is how I follow you. I go there in dark tunnels knowing the light exists in the cracks. I crawl, my hands and knees to earth that I might feel your birth, that I might experience the place of your origination. My desire is only to be nigh, and closer still until I taste from the same palate, swallow from the same mouth.