Monday, August 4, 2008

A Call for an Open Spirit

Who are we now,
But boxed candles,
Consuming our last gasp?

What are we but,
Spiraling bubbles,
Tumbling to the surface?

Evaporating,
Merging,
We never left from the start.

Being,
Fighting,
Who is there between the water's edge,
And the roaring sky?

Do not fret,
You are already there.
Do you see?

Opening,
The sun peers over the timeless earth,
Closing,
The Moon stretches over vibrant night.

There is nothing more or less to be.
What more do we have to see,
to remain in the place which is neither
Dusk nor dawn?

The sun tempts to rise again,
Lose yourself,
at first light.

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