There is no pride nor a sense of superiority 
No guilt nor shame
The heart opens
No happiness nor sadness 
No past nor future 
Just simple joy

A drop of water;
seas within,
oceans without.
She rises.

Two trees; one still adolescent, the other ancient.
I place my palm, caressing the youngling’s bark;
so smooth, yet a little cold.

Within me rests a treasure trove,
ever-pulsing in symphony with my heart.
Concealed and guarded by resistance,
it trembles with volcanic vigor.