Poem: The inner sun

When there is no fire
When there is no air
When there’s only coldness
Lostness and despair

When the only voices
Are running in your head
And you can’t remember
If you’re alive or dead

When there’s only crossroads
Everywhere you go
And you can’t decide:
“Is this a yes or no?”

Stop in all your tracks
Wherever you are in
Close your eyes and open
The holy book within.

Its pages made of gold
Seem unknown to the touch
Yet stay with it enough
And you’ll remember much.

Rest with it in silence
Without a need for sight.
And gently touch its pages
Like brailling out a light.

Abruptly in one moment
When you are almost done
The real eye will open:
The brightest inner sun.

—

Nov 7, 2022