I find it scary to make offerings.
What if I offer myself and you don't take me?
What if I admit that you matter to me
and I hope - maybe believe - I have something you could want or love,
and I don't?
Here I am with many blue stones,
one tall candle, my shiny bits of tin, my blood, this pyramid of grapefruits
my hope for connection, You've given me something - I'm better by you,
and worth,
I have this. I hope it's good enough
to be taken up by something that's as good
as you.
And there you are. Maybe. I don't even always know.
Because I'm standing at the crack in our connection. I'm reaching out across
a gap to lay this down. I see you, maybe distantly, surely partially. I can't know you see me, not for sure, or that you'll want what I have. But here it is.
An offering.
I hope you see my fear and how I am not running.
I hope that something in you finds a way to dip your hand in that, and bring it to your mouth
or in any other way pull nourishment from my cracked
open heart.
I feel grateful to be learning how to offer
and for this community where we can be scared and broken and hopeful and brave
and hold all of that out
to each other, to the bigger and smaller and marvelous everything,
together.
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