Rooted in Life

We came to touch lightly
and retreat.
We walk with open eyes,
each moment a gift
we choose to see.
Together,
we meet the world
with wonder,
never assuming its grace.
Little ripples,
whisper,
no roar,
a drift, soft as sighs,
echoless.
To lucid dream.
To hold on to nothing.
To leave with everything
and nothing.
To carry everything
and nothing.
For the longer the touch,
the easier it is to lose touch.