A wind chants threads of home,
the wonder of a child within, alone,
an inner creak of sacred bones,
and a dog running nearby,
Can you hear
the silence singing a setting sun?
Listen – these bells that ring,
they ring for you.
Colors change in this space,
mystery with light in the eyes
through a window – being, seeing
as out there, far away, so close,
a horizon limits sight;
yet curving unseen, sensuous
into these arms, as two hands,
loyal escorts through happening
are suddenly now so still,
as if they had shaped the night.
Heat inside body and cooler there
Where? Here.
Where this one holds feeling
as contrast to itself,
finding this vanishing bliss
and a great soul behind, before,
timelessly waiting
where hot and cold are one.
Give me a moment of your miracle
Let me come into your wild universe,
to a source of what we’re meaning to be;
Let’s caress this multiple illusion
into emptiness,
where we are always, already free.
