Bouyancy

Love has taken away my practices
and filled me with poetry.

I tried to keep quietly repeating
no strength but yours
but I couldn't!
I had to clap and sing!

I used to be respectable
and chaste and stable,
but who can stand in this strong wind
and remember those things?

A mountain keeps an echo deep inside itself.
That’s how I hold your voice.
I am scrap wood thrown in your fire,
and quickly reduced to smoke.

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~