Tuesday, March 4, 2008


He touches not-as he senses the world as his touch.
He is, because he is all.

But he is alone,
and by his self’s loneliness he surpasses him and all.

He thinks not, but broods his self-
as a single and lonely star
broods to evolve an infinite sky.
He creates millions of cells from within
in a wonderful efflorescence of his imagination
and achieves a wonder, his body,
once hidden in a dream.
In an overriding silence
where everything is in a still within,
he opens his secret eyes,
and makes all open to love.

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