rush

I begin falling into myself,

dropping, flying, hollowing in.

An endlessness of sorrow and of joy,

the pin drop point of experience

that contains everything within itself.

This must be the birth place of compassion

because for a moment I am crying with you

and for a moment your happiness is mine too

and I can feel everything, and I am falling into you

and within myself.

There is no landing, 

the falling is my only resting place.