She cuddles beneath purple fleece,
knees pulled up and restless, melancholy
as Milne’s Donkey, that stuffed lovey
dangling by an ear from her thumb-sucking hand.

There are days I ride the waves of this energy,
and days I’m frustrated and mystified,
but this day I’m struck; my perspective tilted,
and I see her as she is:

the great work of hands I don’t often notice,
sculpted perfection refined and refining,
more unique than ice crystals falling
through our atmosphere.

She is blessed, mysterious, achingly,
deeply passionate, intensely loving
and intensely loved.  She’s working on it,
saving it up, storing all that energy for

the great love-work she’ll do in the future –
the great love-work she’ll do in the Infinite Now.