You Know That Feeling?

you know that feeling
when that goodbye
is stuck in the lump
of your throat,
when your eyes film
with the salt
of your flooded heart,
wondering whether
to stay open or shut?
you know that feeling
when you draw the curtains
just before you go to bed,
and catch the moon
as she takes her rightful place
on that cosmic stage,
and wonder why
you cannot be out there with her,
but have to take a peek from the wings?
you know that feeling
of getting to the end
of a book you lost yourself in,
not knowing where you were even,
or that feeling when you're
standing along the water's edge
where waves part and caress
your shifting toes,
only to receive you in?
you know that feeling
when you are suspended
between an inexplicable emptiness
and a bewitching fullness,
knowing you've played your part
and that the time has finally come
when you ought to move to the wings?
Yes,
for that's how stars are born,
that's how flowers are made,
that's how the earth turns,
and that's how the seas roar,
in the great family of all things.
 

Glory

glory be to the man
who sits under the shade
of an ancient tree,
who drinks in the freshness
of a sun-kissed breeze,
and the fullness
of sprightly flowers on leaves,
and who for a moment
looks to the primordial ground,
to hold a fistful of dark earth
in his heart,
with a silence profound.