Quenching

Some words once spoken
can never again be silenced.
Some truths once known
can never be set down.
They hang, shimmering, between
all you were and all you became,
between what you’ve loved
and all you could have been.
There are choices that spring forth
from the sundering at the foundations
of a soul broken open by the roots
you wove into yourself, a rhizomatic
relatedness with all that yearns
towards being in your heart.
Those are the waters that quench
the thirsts of the worlds.
Carry their clarity in your open eyes,
their generosity in your open hands,
the taste of their depths
as the signpost to your own nourishment.
It is in feeding yourself that you
feed all that is most precious in this life.
Drink, then, your fill
for you, too, must flourish
for all that we are,
all that may yet be,
to thrive.