constancy

you are not the current
that undoes my twists and turns
you are not the word
that quiets and subdues me,
you are not the night
that resists and disrobes,
you are not the sea
that drenches my mornings
you are not the brightness
that comes from my tranquility
you are not the mountain range
that awakens deep within me.

you are not my strength
nor are you my anger,
you are not my hand
nor are you my spotless wings

you are not the trace
nor the shifting wind
you are not the warmth
that releases me before dawn

but you are my eventide, encountered,
the shoulder
upon which my face awakens,
the voice
that listens to my fate,
the thirst from which I drink my constancy;
because you are almost everything,
and above all,
you are constancy.