The poet, Caresse, invited me to come into this.
The this, so broad, so deep it has no horizon.
Precious, priceless jewels so tiny they exist in theory,
So vast they are incalculable.
There is no longer any me in anything of value:
The tiny being at the centre of my universe
now has a greater surface area of ignorance.
To come in to this, I am lost, may be never found.
To find treasures, insights, wisdom
and have nowhere to put them.
I was welcomed to come into this,
I want to run far away,
not be caught by this generous invitation.
This breadth which takes my breath, which brings awareness
of my tinyness, of my huge responsibility.
I want to run far away, but always find myself,
wanting.
Giving.
Hoping there is a being to receive what I have.
Hoping there is a point to have lived.
Hoping to be heard, useful, needed.
My creative self continues now it has been honoured,
Finally allowed its expression.
It takes any encouragement, needs only an open door.
An invitation, to come in.
To come into this, this part of creation,
to claim the place which has been held for me,
while I lived my fear,
while I followed where it led.
While I wasted my life learning about the earth as it exists,
and ignored how it could be.
How it should be.
How it will be, if we accept our invitations
and realise we are all welcome
as we welcome each other and
step through, into this creation.
Sarah Bonnar 