Wake Up

You have an idea of yourself.
It is a kind of building.

This building stands on the sound
of your heart-beat,
the imaginary width
of rhythm.

All night
it stands there.
On a sound,
an imaginary width.

Wake up. Day calls you
to your life: your duty.
And to live, nothing more.
And look at people.

Rest doing no more than adding
your perfection to another day.
Your task is to carry your life high,
and play with it, hurl it like a voice to the clouds
so it may retrieve the light already gone from us.

That is your fate: to live
Do nothing.
Your work is you, nothing more.

Silence is not a lack of words.
Silence is not a lack of music.
Silence is not a lack of curses.
Silence is not a lack of screams.
Silence is not a lack of colors
or voices or bodies or whistling wind.
Silence is not a lack of anything.

Silence is resting, nestling
in every leaf of every tree,
in every root and branch.
Silence is the flower sprouting
upon the branch.

Silence is sound
And silence is silence.
Silence is love, even
the love that hides in hate.

Silence is the pompous queen
and the harlot and the pimp
hugging his purse on a crowded street.

Silence is the healer dreaming
the plant, the drummer drumming
the dream. It is the lover's
exhausted fall into sleep.
It is the call of morning birds.

Silence is the star kissing a flower.

Silence is a word, a hope,
a candle lighting the window of home.

Silence is everything --the renewing sleep
of Earth, the purifying dream of Water,
the purifying rage of Fire, the soaring
and spiraling flight of Air.

It is all things dissolved into no-thing
-- Silence is with you always.

Empty skies. Dark vacuums of night.
Visions. Revisions. Innocence.
I've seen All the empty spaces yet to be filled.
I've heard All of the sounds that will collect
at the end of the world.
And the silence that follows.

Waves lapping on the shore....
Skies on fire at sunset....
Old men dancing on the streets....
Paradox and possibility....
Fools and fine intelligence....
Chaos and clean horizons....
Vague notions and concrete certainty....
Optimism in the face of adversity....

Now we have to admit we can't know ourselves, we can only know about ourselves.
And I am not interested to know about myself any more,
I only entangle myself in the knowing.

I'm alive, I believe in everything
I'm alive, I believe in it all.