Substance and Longing

When the grace of earth
and air surround me,

I am a piece of world
that is but puzzle with

all my irregular edges
and fears. Where are

the missing shapes
that belong beside me?

Where is the hole
I was built to fill?

Some displaced things
were meant to be stranded,

wounded, unfashioned.
Consider the soul whose

vacant form is nothing
but prayer, whose unseen

presence fills the "nowhere"
with all it has to give.

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