The Gift

Life is not a destination.
We don't start empty and slowly fill ourselves up until we are full.
We begin with our gift unwrapped
In the center of our heartbeat.
We do not even know what it is at first.
We see inklings:
A desire for this
A creativity for that.
We begin unwrapping it
Ever so tenderly
One piece,
Then another.
Light grows as we follow the tunnel into unraveling destiny.
Gradually we begin to carry our gift on the outside.
We share it with others
And bring more breath into being.
The starlight of many generations
Is wrapped up in this gift.
If we allow it to lead us,
Out hearts open up from behind
And spirals of light extend themselves
Over outstretched wings.
Eyes closed,
We leap with our gifts in front of us,
Trusting
That the arcs of other people's starlight
Will come to carry us on.