The ocean is unpredictable and threatening,
Tearing years and years off the land with its anger.
But fear not, you will not drown, only float
Westward, towards stillness, towards the burning light,
To shed your skin and walk naked
Unto Eternity’s homely Shores.
Does Heaven have its roots underground?
Is there Comfort to find in the song of dying birds?
Perhaps, when looking for the Eternal,
We need to dig down instead of looking up.
Perhaps, it is our prayers that burn a hole in the sky,
Giving us a glimpse of the gods.
Days stand still, windless,
Like a burning wick without flickers,
Listening, mostly, to drifting clouds,
Looking for “bygone” in falling leaves,
Finding all creatures’ aloneness
In the passing and arising