Thresholds
(A poem about porous boundaries to other worlds, and other people)
the lumpen, trunken trees
weave a spell on me
a divine bind transforms bulging knots
into blooms— from heaven
the trees I do not look for
find me—
bone bare. bridged.
in liminal living truth
in symphony— and in surprise
thresholds brink, worlds collide
and I—
close my eyes
breeze a breath
in rushing rapture
holding harmony with the heavens feels strange—
uncomfortable
beyond anything I've ever scaled
hold this high with me, will you?
this uneasy moment
let's sing— keep singing
falling upwards
glued and grown
over and over again
I will remember this threshold
will remember this way
home 
In everyone's life, there is great need for an anam cara, a soul friend. In this love, you are understood as you are without mask or pretension. The superficial and functional lies and half-truths of social acquaintance fall away, you can be as you really are. Love allows understanding to dawn, and understanding is precious. Where you are understood, you are at home. When you really feel understood, you feel free to release yourself into the trust and shelter of the other person's soul.
Consequently, love is anything but sentimental. In fact, it is the most real and creative form of human presence. Love is the threshold where divine and human presence ebb and flow into each other.
JOHN O'DONOHUE
Excerpt from his book, Anam Cara,
Perhaps trees are the perfect example of acceptance and inclusiveness, the way they grow around and about, bending to the light and to allow others to reach the same light, giving their leaves to the soil when they don't need them any more, sheltering and providing. Lovely poem.