It holds me humble, honest, and heartfull.
It fortifies my soul when the drought drains me up.
It takes my torment and tickles my woe.
Even when pain is all I think I know.
It lightens moments, moods, and misery.
It fades soberingly dizzyingdiscussions.
It filters chaos, by coordinating nothings,
To make me see that reason is rarely reasonable.
It breaks down barriers and shortens these divides.
It ferrets out friends and the ever foil-some foes.
It metes out measure and meaning and merriment, without preference or prejudice, or priority.
It finds me when the world is stark, more now than ever, more cold than for f’ever.
It settles me,
back into myself,
that sense of me,
not anyone else.
It is the every emotion, found simply, found bare.
It is the comfort, the refuge, the kindred, the care.
It is in my sadness, my silence, and glee.
It is the noble nomad, that travels within me.
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