What gives to prompt this rare unclenching
in heart and head, amorphous soul
of its fierce and vigilant regard
for the vulnerable self?
What clicks into place or jumps out of gear,
what wobbles in an untoward fashion
to override our chronic and ubiquitous fear
and allow magnanimity and mercy to emerge
from equanimity's usual, hard-shelled nub?
What gives, unravels and dismantles
a bit more of the structural integrity of the self,
bringing us all the nearer to collapse?
Everyone should ask,
until the need for such inquiries atrophies,
our giving made at last
innocent and inherent
as the instinctual, self-protective
behavior it has replaced,
as our conscious obedience evolves
incrementally into complete surrender.
O child of God, how you prattle about the path
you are being inexorably swept along.