futility

what good in standing in this skin and waiting
if there's no you for me to wrap my limbs around?
what good in sharing kindness to others
if there's none of you here
in this great, great room of my soul
to balance my existence?
I've got moist cinnamon soil on my floor
and pieces of blue velvet sky on my celling,
jasmine tea pours on my neck and shoulders,
but if you don't have the courage to enter
what good in growing roots to all this?