POEM - The Sharpest Parts

It is the sharpest parts of you that penetrate deepest into me.

Like the story of the Buddhist monk
Who sought redemption of an insensitive life
By tying a Buddha statue to his waist.
Up a steep mountain slope, he ambled,
To a peak overlooking his monastery
That floated on the lake below.
Hand over hand, through snow and bramble,
Dragging the Buddha with him every step.
At the top he placed the Buddha looking out,
Over the mirror flat lake, the air thick with exhaustion,
Where he sat meditating for days
Without a gram of water or food.

I want to jettison what is tied to me,
To become the net that catches the fish
But let’s the water flow through.

You –
You wear forgiveness like loose fitting clothes
And with the sharpest parts of you
Bore out in me all the space I need.