Almost Poem by Eric Cockrell

the beginning of light
wrapped in the warm wet darkness,
before time, or the concept
of being...

in each word we almost speak,
in each thought we almost form,
in each feeling we almost allow...

do you know me?
i danced the day you were born,
pulling stillness out of the falling rain.
my name is written in the
deepest cavern of your soul...

i sweep the steps of your temple
while you pray and offer sacrifices
from my body to yours!
from your body to the children!

in each word we almost speak,
in each thought we almost form,
in each feeling we almost allow...

now time waits for the fire
beneath the window...
waiting to devour and remove
the last vestige of having been...

and the liquor of our loving shimmers
in the beginning of light...
in the radiance of the fallen.

in each word we almost speak,
in every thought we almost form.
in every feeling we almost allow.