collapse

I fold myself
Like a napkin on the table.
Small and plain,
An envelope
For things that will never be sent.

Folding, find
In every crease,
Tucked away,
A piece of me-
Safe here
Underneath.

Laden on your lap,
I do not sparkle.
Fine china
Still I hide
Under the table.

Folding, falling
Into myself.
Bending, collapsing,
My skin
Softly pressed
Into the shape
Of something simple.

I was not made
For wonderful things-
Scraps of peace
That fall from you.
This mystery,
This everlasting feast.

You grow
And I become smaller
And smaller.

Stained and slight,
Tucked out of sight.

I was made for little things-
Hidden things.
Collapsing like a wave,
But I am soft
And make no sound.

I fold myself
Like a napkin on the table.
Waiting for the aftermath,
White foam on the beach.
Slipping away,
Foam and lace.
Collapse, unwind-
Find your way back
To the sky.

How boundless this place,
And I a piece.
I'll fold myself
To take up less space
In this wonderful mystery,
Make it part of me.

Tucked away and treasured-
Pondered in my heart.