We Are The Offering
I have been taking notes
Pinned them on kiosks
In the storm. Wind swept
Uncertain
What remains
Becoming poetry drawn
With charcoal, pastels
My hands, the table
Reams of paper
All, covered in it
The awe of it
The all of it
Filling every crevice and crack
Permeating flow
The give and take
Until we realize
We are the offering
The received beauty
The magnificence
Of it all.