the truth is

I am nothing

sand crumbling

blown by the wind

erosion

is my becoming

…

the truth is I am a tree

these roots planted 

by none other than

…

the truth is

lovingly unknowable

as it folds and unfolds like the sea

taking with it what no longer is or ought to or can hardly bare to be

as the wind wanders along the spine

once again I learn to breathe

for loving the unknown

is what sets me free