The Lover

"My lover put his hand through the opening;
my heart trembled within me,
and I grew faint when he spoke.
I rose to open to my lover,
with my hands dripping myrrh:
With my fingers dripping myrrh
upon the fittings of the lock.
I opened to my lover --
but my lover had departed, gone.
I sought him but I did not find him;
I called to him but he did not answer me."

- Song of Songs 5: 4-6

Empty

There is an "empty" I seek to achieve, a blessed opening designed to receive.
It's not without form, and it's not without space, it's a place of surrender where I'm meant to spill.
It's not an ache and it's not a well, it's a sun strewn lake that's full of quiet and a restful spell.
Where light comes to abide and grace comes to dwell.