O sorrow, pull me apart
and bring me back together again,
so that joy may once again
lift this aching regret
and take me to the third place
where sorrow and joy
frolic together in my naked garden.
And there, complete and incomplete,
sadness and happiness
can become my uneasy companions,
and lie side-by-side
in the restless creative energy
of looking out,
of looking in,
of looking beyond,
of looking for myself in the third place.