the invisible tug
note to self

when you feel that pull
there’s nothing to do but
listen, tend it, and trust
it won’t let you go and
has its own gravity
best to follow the call

you have been tapped—
the task is to dig
be an inner archeologist
choose an ethereal brush
dust with delicate care

ground holds you up
air provides breath
water is required
a web of interbeing

not even that
keep looking
there’s no web
there is no “two”—only
consciousness shining
we’re made of it
shot through with it
and rest in it
but you can’t find it

2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.