I saw you and became empty.
This emptiness, more beautiful than existence,
it obliterates existence, and yet when it comes,
existence thrives and creates more existence.
To praise is to praise
how one surrenders to the emptiness.
To praise the sun is to praise your own eyes.
Praise, the ocean. What we say, a little ship.
So the sea-journey goes on, and who knows where?
Just to be held by the ocean is the best luck
we could have. It is a total waking-up.
Why should we grieve that we have been sleeping?
It does not matter how long we've been unconscious.
We are groggy, but let the guilt go.
Feel the motions of tenderness
around you, the bouyancy.
What a perfect expression of faith.
ReplyDelete. . . who knows where?
Feel the motions of tenderness . . .
Feel the motions of tenderness
ReplyDeletearound you, the bouyancy.
Ah!
This is exactly what we knew in our first nine months as we filled the emptiness, and before we could praise the sun!
"Let the guilt go." It's a beautiful poem. I'm drawn to the ocean images.
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