when i begin to believe
i have become authoritative
on what language is right or wrong
then i begin to worry
that something has gone awry
in me
sometimes
there are moments when
the gap between us is just—so—large
that what i hear you say
is so far from what you mean
and what you hear me say
is so far from what i mean
and we have hit the limits
of our imaginations
when the same words work
so differently upon each of us
and we suffer in that alienation
from one another:
we cannot see the same light
we do not see light the same
we are different.
sometimes
the best we can give
is just each other
and all that breath between
in that space beyond
where judgment suspends
like the lift of hot air balloons
in their falling
sometimes
the best we have to give is:
the gift of uncertainty
that allows
same words
to mean differently
accepting all
the beautiful & catastrophic
knots of love
that cannot be resolved
in the deficiency of words
working for us
so that there is room enough
for all those differences
in histories and relationships and knowings
for all the depths of our persons
that cannot find fidelity in sound or symbol
so that the expectation of agreement
the expectation of oneness in word
be lifted
into rumi's field
beyond right and wrong
not because it is poetic
but because it is necessary
