Those places I\'ve never been to,
over the unfamiliar edge of perceived reality,
Life goes on like a river,
Constant and unseen,
And hidden deep in its stillest shallow
Are truths, like me, that make sense,
Or which I cannot name,
Because they are too large.
The tenderest breeze
shall raise me as a sparrow,
Even though I have solidified like rock,
Shattering surge by surge,
and I like the ocean,
Rise and descend with
the respiration of the cosmos.
For what is life if not the desire
Of the sun descending to embrace the lands?
And what is a soul if not a reminder
Of time craving for the time itself?
We merely echo in the wider stillness,
In any case, in us quivers
the sound of the whole eternity.
Or if the wind should cease
if the time should pause,
My soul and I will rest
in the hush of the stars,
And the sky will fold me
into its infinite arms,
Where neither yesterday nor
tomorrow may follow.
Nothing that we name
in this world is constant
Matches the trembling
the impermanence of being,
For life is both a flame
and the dark that cradles it,
Rendering the birth
and farewell as a single breath.
I do not know what it\'s about life
that calms and soothes me,
Only that something within me listens—
The hush of its song is
deeper than all oceans,
And not even the sky,
has such endless arms.