Thursday, March 11, 2010


Love has taken away my practices
and filled me with poetry.

I tried to keep quietly repeating,
No strength but yours, but I could'nt.

I had to clap and sing.
I used to be respectable and chaste and stable,
but who can stand in this strong wind and remember those things?

A mountain keeps an echo deep inside itself,
That's how I hold your voice.

I am scrap wood thrown in your fire,
and quickly reduced to smoke.

I saw you and became empty.
This emptiness, more beautiful than existence,
it obliterates existence, and yet when it comes,
existence thrives and creates more existence!


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