OPEN GROUND

There’s an opening
somewhere
where
everything’s
tumbling
crumbling
disintegrating
decaying
shattering
collapsing
crashing
down.

There is
no system
no sentence
no box
no fix.

There is
no place
no sacred cow
no safe space
no final resting place,
Where you get your answer.

There’s just a face and a hand,
someone else’s inner space

which -

if you’re
broken enough
daring enough
open enough
bare enough
whole enough
grateful enough
…just…
…good enough….

- you may touch,
and,
if you’re very lucky,
even embrace.

The ground
is good.