Fearless Compassion from A to B

— for Rêveries

The dips and rises they speak of
While not pairs in source or in vibration,
Ring distant chimes of the
Quietest hint of recognition,
Of how on some days the contrast that respite can bring
Serves to later twist and salt the blade
That thrusts a little deeper. 

They wander fields with
Memories dotting the path ahead,
Seeking alone
(In some searches, they told me, we are always alone).
They follow quiet echoes of laughter,
Hoping to be lead to fallen stars
Twinkling at them from hiding places around corners
And past the shadows of the undergrowth.

They teach me that maitrī
Means loving-kindness,
And tell me we must learn
To apply this to ourselves
With fearless compassion.
But can they remember to do so
On bloody knees,
Pressing their palms to the cold dewy grass
In their memory fields?

If they were to forget,
As long as I have power to do so,
I would remind them every time they kneel.