"Everything Is Made Of One Hidden Stuff."

At the edge of that winter
my arms wrapped around
so much beauty that I did not
know how to deal with
the rest of my life,
which was not so beautiful

This is how I know
we are more than hunger, more
than what we call love,
more than what we try so hard
to be, yet cannot
name, cannot see or let go:

One morning we wake
and that same sky is silver
and the water shines.
There is beauty beyond all
that grows through the years,
no matter our clumsy steps.

There are not enough kind words,
enough brave deeds or
good thoughts to make this our due.
A gift, only, always,
the trusting hand is the one
that will pull you up.

what astonishes me: my beautiful birthday boy, every day
the trust he put in me to come here and to stay