Taken into the condition
Of silence
I see
I am nothing
When free from the things I must chase,
And the things that follow behind
To snatch what I've stolen
Without my knowing.
What the mind has is
Consolation for the nothing holding it.
I need to draw my name in the sand
But neither the sand, name nor stick are me
Nor are they those I wish to reach
Through the medium they've assumed
To be them
For whom, I am nothing but feeling.
