That which needs to be truly heard
Cannot be expressed in words
It turns up, on that rare chance,
As a bookmark on an empty page…
Sliding you into its silence.
Children delight in empty spaces
And make squiggles to say nothing.
Absence does not mean vacant
It’s a fullness that can’t be touched
Which is how you can feel it…
It leaves you restless and alone
And that’s when the work has begun.
If you always have everything
How shall you find, and celebrate?
The Master turns away
Without telling the disciple
The only thing he wants to know…
The silence confounds his mind
But something in him begins to surrender.
The rest of it is about
Abiding in that negative space.