Compassion is instinctively
unrigid: a soft breath in circular motions,
an attentive listener with fine feathery
edges, a smooth touch; accommodating,
it tends pleasure’s gift.
Not a tumultuous tree’s leaf breaking in
bitterness or a clustered
conversation that doesn’t
generate warmth; where form–frozen
clarity strikes interior memories
awakening words, ungiddy meanings
within egos of self–venture
in gratuitous step.