Walk and be silent Towards the sea Last hill covered Towards the wood of laws Where to gather in living faith Under the branches of the oaks.
Enter the stage Palpable mystery This invisible thing Who makes us go Towards the tips and tricks Of reconsideration.
Are fading The last shadows Early in the morning While the cicadas sing Encephalographic spasm To warm the stomach.
Whisper the sweat Remove makeup from wisps Through the tall grass With a whistling sound Reassuring tinnitus Like lively ears to the coming wind.
On the ground Feet refuse to move forward Heart in turmoil Make a final call To the tortured rocks From entering the place.
Listen to the silence With slow vibrations Near the thorn trees by the side of the path Where worries and fricasse L’attention fine Prelude to the opening of the caves.
Fine bite Full-throated The sneaker scrapes the stone Near the mound Where to gather the tools of waiting Before the emerging dawn.
The great crossing Made of shards of life and brokenness Look at our humanity Thinking of reporting Love and freedom At the crossroads of eyes.
Fresh moose A body that never stops functioning Muted sensations and movements For the benefit of the sensory experience Infinitely simplified Like an open letter at the point of a knife.
Brief They shared Session intranquille Zafu sitting The scriptural word Meditated, soothed, exhaled.
The ellipsis Reconverted in silence Pass nutmeg Remonstrances absolved Where everything is there Beyond the unspeakable.
Accept the bend of time Climb without return Run on the ridge Eliminate the fear of heights Featured one by two A burst of emotion facing the old ocean.
