An abstract thought which we pursue to its logical end

Is like really taking the time to enjoy a piece of layer cake

Instead of inhaling it, we use our senses to make love to each bite

And after, our whole soul is cake

And we traversed the heavens because of an idea

Which a baker pursued to its gorgeous finish

Just like we see a slice of someone’s life

And imagine what their house is like

Or I, as a woman of a certain age

Smile with my heart at someone else

And their whole day has sugar sprinkled on it

And I meant it that way, which was a little naughty of me

But everyone’s always saying to touch grass

And I know what my version is

It’s fully pursued thoughts and fully seeing people

Both of which can be disconcerting

Unless you understand that the table was set for all of us

So we are at once the honored guest and nothing special

There is no hierarchy of seating, no place cards

No caste system for who gets an invitation

Only eyes and souls pouring life into other eyes and souls

And the theme of the party is vulnerability

You can always say that it’s too much

But this is the assignment until we lie down dead

And until we learn to feast without shame

And feed each other without resentment

We will have to keep gathering at the table

Our eyes darting away awkwardly

Our hearts faltering

And the cake coming to the table misshapen

But one day, I know, we’ll cast out our pride

And that’s when what felt like a summons

Will become a divine wellspring

You and I will never stop looking into each other

And the thoughts we finally speak

Will become the table, the people

The cake, the forks, the hum of feeling

And the fully formed ideas

This life. Soul. You.