A poem for the depleted.

Stop. Do nothing of consequence.
I give you permission.

Stroke the back of one hand with the other’s fingertips.

Notice the bones
the shapes
the scars.

Attend to the beat of your heart and the coolness of your breath.


Know the emptiness in the middle
is the echo of millions.

Avoid the need to fill it up
with distraction
or action.

Instead, observe its depth
its color
its weight.

Now reach back and find your favorite sunrise.
Its purples and reds.
Its landscape made of sea
or summit
or sky
and soil.

Hold in your mind someone you love
without expectation.
Let that warmth flow
and spread
and bloom through the core of you.

Indulge deep within in it.

Let it fill the dark spaces.

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