Then a woman said, Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow.
And he answered:
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.”
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.

Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.

Once, you had gills 
and lived in the water 

of my body. While I 
planned for you, put 

sugar in a dish to attract 
all that’s sweet, sang 

along with Billie Holiday 
so you’d know sway. 

But you were already 
poetry, the meter  

of my heart in harmony 
with yours, their iambic 

fits and the pentameter  
of my gait, my sleeping 

breath. Oh, to keep  
you there, steady 

beat of life and coming 
to know the power 

of opening your eyes. 
Each day now I soothe 

your skin with peony 
cream where it grows 

coarser by the day,  
I shield the summer  

sun from your eyes 
and blow your tender 

head where it’s become 
wet from the heat, I teach 

you to keep yourself 
buoyant on the waves 

so one day you can find  
and thrive in the sea again. 

The fountains mingle with the river
And the rivers with the ocean,
The winds of heaven mix for ever
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single,
All things by a law divine
In one another’s being mingle—
Why not I with thine?

See the mountains kiss high heaven,
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister-flower would be forgiven
If it disdain’d its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth,
And the moonbeams kiss the sea—
What is all this sweet work worth
If thou kiss not me?