People keep saying, bust
out of your comfort zone!
I love my comfort zone.
And the more I love,
the wider the space
between heartbeats
until my comfort zone
encircles the stars.
On this April morning
why not follow the honeybee
who drowns in the center
of a rose,
in the center of a love
without circumference?
Dissolve into a pure
fragrance that overwhelms
the garden entirely.
Note: this poem is corny, but I don't care. Nothing describes my experience of the heart's infinite portal better than the image of the bee drowning at the center of the flower. We burst our comfort zone not by striking out against boundaries, but by entering the center of a sphere that has no circumference. The tiny point at the center of the cross IS the resurrection.

(Photo by Kristy Thompson)