I am Sorry

In my ignorance,
I loved you.
In my ignorance,
I respected every boundary
of the land you are,
and could not see my own borders.

I thought the light was present
but it was dimmed,
the darkness of my mistake
overshadowing the Sun.

I felt to love
was to love Big
but to love Bigger than mySelf
was no love at all.

Compassion and an open heart
were my innocent goals
but in the haste to love,
and in effort to keep the heart open to you,
to remain tirelessly compassionate,
I lost compassion for mySelf.

I damaged the blossom of our Flowering,
because I did not sweetly tend mySelf enough,
choosing in darkness to tend to you,
and for that, I am sorry.

Make a Place for Me (a poem)

Travel to golden fields of straw,
gather up enough for my bed.
Pluck the downey snow-colored feathers of geese
which fly to sun before the winter's grey.

Scatter straw on the ground
in the corner of your heart,
the corner which is warmest,
before the fire which burns constantly with passion.

Seek the softest silks, cut out the pattern
for my place near the fire,
fill abundantly, cozy and plump with goose down
and lay it atop the straw.

Find the sweetest blankets,
to keep the warmth when you can not
leave them there for me,
and I will find them.

When you've readied the corner of your heart
nearest the fire,
when you've made a place for me,
I will be welcome
and I will come.