Out of reach

My dear children,
because a moment of arrival
misleads with a sense of closure
and the temptation to cease;
because desire is half of sin
and possession the other half;
because wonder is as trustworthy as wisdom,

though closer to you than your own breath
I haunt you, just out of reach,
barely imperceptible—
birdsong in a thick woods,
the bodily substance of music,
the expansion of the universe—
so that you may never quit opening yourself,
listening, looking, seeking.

Even in my looming absence
I am here, in your reaching.
I am horizon;
        you will never hold me.
              I will always hold you.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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