Bodhi

the woman who wears weathered bark
drew a line down my face
to split me in two
and crack me open like
the egg in a forgotten nest by the waters
I spilled out of my shell
and onto her feet with ravenous tongues
she buried me in her flesh
to remind me I had had enough
yet I had still to learn
what enough meant
an what sufficed my appetite
for as I watched the world in its ways
it seemed to always want more
whether to consume or create
but the woman with the weathered bark dress
kept me in her solitude
to empty me of myself
and everything
until I was reminded
I always had had enough


- for Alfred