Learning to love differently is hard
Love with the hands open, love
With the doors banging on their hinges
The cupboard unlocked, the wind
Roaring and whimpering in the rooms
Rustling the sheets and snapping the blinds
That thwack like rubber bands
In an open palm.
Do not move
in order to touch me,
for I am stillness itself.
Do not be drawn
in many directions
in order to take hold of me;
I am unity itself.
Stop the movement,
unify diversity,
and you will surely reach me,
who long ago reached you.