Breaking Bread

The giver is used up in the giving

as rain evaporates in what it helps

to grow. It is human to fear this, but

we can no more resist it than the pit

can resist becoming fruit.

When you listen, I release my song of

silence. When I see you, you release

your light waiting in the dark.

When you help me up, you absorb

part of my fall. But somehow it doesn’t

make you fall. This is the inoculation

of love.

As if it were a secret, I must confess:

the giver is used up in the giving as

the heart evaporates in

what it tries to hold.