The Most Loving Thing

There was tenderness

in the persistent way

pieces of my own heart

longed for understanding

and in the gentle way

they became willing

to surrender

the need to grasp —

to step outside

neatly sorted

concepts and ideas

and every place

that was comfortable

and guaranteed —

to toss it all up

again and again

because it was

the most loving thing.

4 thoughts on “The Most Loving Thing”

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