An Ambit State

I am not good enough –
She said it casually
Like she was observing rain
Rather than defining her Soul.
I am not good enough –

We sat together at the small
Rickety table and drank
Full eyes and full cups.

The cup rose cautious
And drank ad nauseam.

She said –
It is both the Fervor and
The careful Poise that is like
One who needs but must
Control the eager lapping
Tongue that licks the
Fickle drops that always stick
To the papery bottom and thrust
Her hands that grasp
The steaming cup
But would rather
Another hand to touch
Instead of coffee, tea, and such
Of aesthetic cafes
That leave you missing
Much.

She said I am not good enough.

I grasped her hand in my own –
You are good.
You are enough.
You have so much goodness and so much enoughness that if you would try and
Gather it all up in your arms it would spill over the sides and
Onto the floor and fill the room around you.

I said it’s like you’re walking in the late afternoon sun
And your Shadow is long in front of you
And all you can see is that long stretch of darkness
All you can see is the way the sidewalk is dark and cold
But you are walking in the late afternoon sun
And if you would just turn your head
Better
If you would turn your body
Suddenly
You will understand the warmth and light around you
Of you
And your shadow will be long behind you
Never able to overtake you.