Hollow Bone

A hollow bone

An empty soul

Between the stories lie

A grace too deep

My soul to keep

Until my stories die

Furnished in the solitude

An ever letting go

Cannot express the magnitude

Of deep, serene repose

My vessel lay

An empty shell

Of what I thought was me

Illusion is,

when it dissolves,

A taste of bittersweet

Furnished in the solitude

I found the truth of “I”

Cannot express the gratitude

Of learning how to fly

A letting go

Too deep to show

A stripping myself bare

A great relief

To neither be

The tortoise nor the hare