Polysemic Stupor

I am thankful for this loosening quiet –

your silence slackening the ties.

Often shackled by a fear of loss

in love, I might yet open toward a growing –

 .

the possibilities of a learning, as in youth –

less about the being something,

than, profoundly, just to be –

that which relaxes and allows

 .

like a cow caught in rough weather,

or warm engagements with a child,

with the blossom, & make-believe.

Empowered when our symbol’d systems –

 .

confused by what is happening –

begin to signify that loss,

a form of death, ensures the safety

of our risks.  That harm and haven

 .

are our home – the same as truth:

what’s loved is lost,

and thus we come to love.

Wisdom undoing opposites

 .

in terms of life.

I am ridiculed by youth –

it’s how I know that many lessons

come unlearned,

 .

that “completeness…