Audience of None

Why have you come here, in the shadow

abyss of these cliffs, to this

precipice?  Tell me why you are


here, since I’ve been waiting

for you to lumber by for quite

some time, and I only


just realized.  Strange how thoughts

can scale a mountain side showing you


the unknown tablet-like plateaus of Mount Sinai

never revealing any real intention

other than floating like water


molecules in the air, the movement

of breath.  Be careful dear, the path—though surely

treacherous—is delicate like the membrane of skin


and it’s wounds can sometime feel

insurmountable, so stay lithe with your language


since your body can be burdensome.  I am

the unseen hand holding up

the puppet of my skin, that


subtle gesture of touching the back

for reassurance of it being

time to breathe.  When I fall out of view, don’t


worry, I am that dark thing

inside the puppet.  You’ve reminded me, in this


dramatic landscape, I shine the only light in

the spectacle of wind singing like music.  My obfuscated

dance is no less clearly seen out here, I don’t amble


in shadow because you and I both know destination

just has to be discovered through the journey.  We don’t know

the contours of what we feel.  We only know what erodes it


from within carving out the sculpture of some God

maybe.  All you’ll ever see are just glimpses of me,


be assured that I’m here in the fully awakened empty

space: a work of art balancing

in a state of constant curiosity


because beauty is so demanding.


1 Comment

  1. Reblogged this on disdainfulbeauty.

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