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In the bright of the morning I ask, “Can we understand (hence love) something our minds can’t grasp?”

The question evaporates and I return in the hardness of the wooden bench where I sit. From here, my heart swells because I feel you are real. You are here and there and you are real. And I feel real to you. Yes! I am blessed for I am real. Yet sometimes drifting and traveling away in forests and ocean of thoughts, nonetheless, each time accepting in coming back anew with questions gurgling in my mouth. The most possible answer of them all is that I am real, and I understand (hence love) and, without grasping, it all feels soothingly familiar.