both far and near

when my thoughts fail,
you have sandy grains.
when my words run out,
you have one for that as well.
when i’m out of strength,
you donate yours.
when my knee are worn,
you establish these steps.
when i feel the dirt crumbling again,
you get your hands dirty.
this fullness feels
both far and near.

at my limits
exist your lifts.
at my borders
you reveal new terrain.
in this deeper pressing,
is far richer oil.
in my valley,
we behold the mountain.
the summit seems
both far and near.

when my soul shrinks,
you open freely with, ‘come.’
when unable to find a single drop,
your flow follows one more pour.
i say, this cup, mostly empty,
you say, i wonder from when.
when this cup, nearing empty,
you hold every drop again.
this fullness still feels
both far and near.

the invitation is higher from here,
beyond what’s clear.
what you’re doing in magnitude,
out there, crossing edges of far.
you give tastes, touches, glimpses,
even here, palpably near.
again i’m reminded,
the summit stands
both far and near.