I witness vulnerability.
As I plunge into its depths, I notice . . .
the nervousness and trepidation in baring myself
I wonder how much of me the other can contain
before he judges, separates or withholds.
Being vulnerable is soft, yet strong.
It bends under gale force winds
Absorbs gleaming rays of strongest light
It is a tender space to behold, gentle as a crispy leaf sacredly held, lest it whither in your hands.
A quiet strength arouses this tenderness within.