Over the Saalish Sea
Gillian Cornwall, September 2015
What balloon string attaches us to the earth?
What tethers us to the rest of humanity and keeps us from fluttering off into the ether?
What holds us in place?
I turn out the bedroom light.
My heart holds a dozen butterflies, struggling to haul me away from my mortal coil,
though I have no desire to depart.
Hold me here,
hold me with a touch to prove my being.
hold me with a touch to prove my being.
Need me, please, just for a moment?
Could there be a soul longing
to place her hand on my chest,
to say, please, don't go?
Do we all want to be desired or needed?
Is it that which deals our self-approval rating?
Is it that which deals our self-approval rating?
Let me be of value. Let me be of use.
There is a place - I've been there - it's a perfection,
a balance of freedom and responsibility.
a balance of freedom and responsibility.
It is the sweet spot of life where we are filled by our giving,
knowing that our giving fulfills a need in a fellow being.
knowing that our giving fulfills a need in a fellow being.
We are loved for our capacity to give and to receive
and we are accepted as part of this human equation.
and we are accepted as part of this human equation.
May I be within the brackets, at the heart of the math?
- Gillian Cornwall, c. April 3, 2016
Originally written in October, 2015
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