can we hold ourselves
and one another
without condition?
with a knowing
that we belong
just as we are,
now?
and that the questions
and cracks and stumblings,
where mundane dances with magical,
and love bleeds into hurt
and companionship dissolves into loneliness
is where we find ourselves,
hidden–
there all along.
waiting and ready,
arms wide open.
can we hold ourselves
and one another
without condition?
with a knowing
that we belong
just as we are,
now?
wildroots 