The Unbearable Gift

We pass unbearableness around like a football in a never-ending game;

Like the pair of socks no-one wanted for seven Christmases;

Like the filing tray full of things that no-one knows where to put.

Then the right words in the right moment and oh, God! My heavy bones are filled with it;

There is nowhere for it to be but here, now; in my chest;

Yet even while I gasp for air within its restriction, I see it is a gift,

And I hate the part of me which knows that;

Hate my expansive heart

For allowing me to feel this unbearable gift

Without self-pity;

For always bringing me back to

Love -
If I can receive it.