The sense of opening space

Just a poem that came to me today, a day in which I’m opening space here in Prince George:

The sense of things

I have seen the texture of space
felt the sound of silence, falling in a wide open offering
tasted hesitancy and the sweetness of light
touching time

we sense into the most astonishing places together, you and I
into the tight cracking of possibility
screaming for release

we let the humour of despair rest on our tongues,
choke our eyes with tears and scour our nostrils
with tendrils of acrid smoke.

we walk together in circles
dizzy with the sensation of silent music
anxious that the soft holding
be strong enough to withstand the wails of pain and joy
that accompany liberation

I have seen the music of leadership
arise to dance with chaos;

watched the bitterness of hunger
fade into the dark recesses of the palette;

heard the smooth and cool surface of flow
course through networks of veins;

tasted the colour of peace:
its pure yellow flavour flecked with crimson notes;

smelled the birth of worlds and the shifting of lives;
in ever opening space.