Sometimes opinions and beliefs isolate us
Should we have none, should we be just
Open and light-hearted, driven by the wind
Should we open ourself to the mystery
Concealed beneath thick layers of desire
The unfulfilled dreams of a thirsty conscience
Should we never be hungry, never thirsty
Hanging nothing on the walls of our thoughts
Keeping nothing and forgiving all
Should we leave everything at the threshold of our nights
And discover every morning, at last, this new day
That invites itself at the banquet of possibles
That one with sparkling hours rising straight and proud
Like bubbles bursting without return, renewed to the
Rhythm of the un-formed, of the non-becoming
Without wounds — never — why should there be
When every second contains them all
And when the mind is keen, sharp as a blade
When life offers herself, whole and ardent and never
For a moment ceases to be amazed at herself
At this love that irrigates her, incorruptible, never changing
That same one that moors us to the great Silence
For intimate apprenticeships, unexampled deliverances
Alone — yet feeling so vibrant and one with what is
