Until We Turn
“Until We Turn”
A lone blade rises—
slender, unshaken,
thinning until it is nearly thought,
nearly nothing—
like the final tone of a meditation bell,
reaching out into forever.
At its tip,
a single bead of dew
balances the weight of morning.
Within it—
the whole world,
folded small,
turned upside down,
as if reminding us
that truth often waits
inverted,
waiting for us to turn ourselves
the other way
to see it.
It is the grain of sand
that holds the universe,
the whisper of grass
that holds the sky.
And for a breath,
it holds me too.