empty wonder

every night,
at the altar of
a swirling darkness,
of not knowing
where I am
or what I do,
I empty this cup,
filled with the earnings
of another busy day -
heartfelt offerings
at the temple of silence
where souls meet,
to fill it with nothing,
only the empty wonder
of a child
who longs for nothing,
and yet leaves the doors open
waiting for everything.