I am empty, so You fill me, but I am never full;
For I am a fountain pouring forth your love, emptying.
Beneath this craggy mountain shell is cavernous magic.
I am countenance, only an image, as the leaf is of the tree.
I am empty, so You fill me, but I am never full:
For I am a singing, starlit river carrying ecstatic rainbow fish.
Spilling into your vast, eternal ocean.
I am but an iridescent bubble, delicate and hollow,
Floating, shimmering, pretending to be knowable until I burst,
I dance in the breeze while I can, flit and spin myself
Into and out of being.
I am nothing. Empty. Without form.
I glisten and shimmer with dragonfly wings.
I hover and land then flit away on a moment’s inspiration.
Exhaling.
You breathe You into me, and I breathe You out.
I am empty, so You fill me, but I am never full:
I am a hollow shell holding the roll of the ocean.
I am a cupped hand holding light.
I am nothing. I am.
©Sharon Heller, (Yom Kippur) September 18, 2018