Braids

I spoke to the Universe.

"I have faith in You," I said.
"You are wise and I am oh, so small."

I nestled in grass near a wandering brook,
wanting nothing more than its sounds to hold me.

"I am the messenger," it sang. And I listened,
falling asleep as the day passed around me,

the sun, rising then disappearing. The moon, the stars,
the milky way enfolding me with virgin lace sewn from remnants

of spent tears of gods. Tears of joy and sorrow.
This is the way of the Universe - bountiful braids of joy and sorrow.

This is the nature of Tao - the Universe is my Father,
my Mother, the endless stars and the babbling brook.

The Universe spoke to me.

"I have faith in You," it whispered. "You are here with me,
nestled in this grass, sown within these heavens."

When one cries, the other tastes salt.
When one sings, the other's soul is freed.

And of that, we are one.