Living inside our bodies
we never know the extent of our reach,
where the tiny seedpods of our smiles
are blown, where they lodge,
where they reside deep in memory,
how long they endure
emitting their silent love,
how much they become beacon,
they become anchor, balm.
In word, in action, in image,
we are cradled and carried,
we are held within others,
in whom we may be given the grace
we do not give ourselves, the embrace,
acceptance, nurture, forgiveness.
If we had any sense of our reach,
if we knew it all, we would inflate,
buoyant, we would rise up,
arms encompassing everything
within their worldly touch.