There is a place where love is found
somewhere above this artful ground
but too below my imprint here
the karmic fields of the diseased.
It’s a disease we all know well
because whole or part we twisted from
a straight and honest love vessel
to a distorted pottery mug.
And as a mug I cannot be
placed amidst fine china cups
that have a base to stabilize
the sway of all uncertainty.
But what to be, believe, and do
like balls within a juggler’s air
sometimes caught, sometimes dropped,
but always put in motion.
There is no knowing yet must be
belief, faith, trust that mugs and me
will end up where we have to be
to transform into the beautiful.
It’s in the need and want to be
the finest of all china cups
that causes waves of circumstance
to alter what we thought would be!