The dichotomy dissolves Of subject and object Spiritual knowledge goes Spiritual persona goes Just this Whatever is happening Is it Doubt Is it Mental discussions About how this can’t be it Is it You can’t turn anywhere Touch anything Hear anything Feel, taste Without it being it There’s nothing that isn’t it And there’s nothing…
we are natural forms organic creatures more like trees and thickets than the straight, chiselled lines we’ve come to measure ourselves against it’s easy to forget and to distance + seclude ourselves, inside our toy boxes and tool sheds and coffins stone + wood from the earth but sawn + measured built to contain our…
What magic comes from Silence? All of it Can’t you see it all comes from Nothing? I’m a voice crying out from the wilderness “It doesn’t matter!” None of it matters Perhaps What matters Is that we suffer Or that suffering is Can be What do we do with that? What can we do? More…
I don’t really notice much Outside Because everything that happens Happens in me Of me The flowers bloom In me The wind blows In me The hills roll and rise In me Like my bones And my blood And my breath All in me As if my body Were the universe itself And my breath…