Of the Sun

This wonder lives
in the eye of the I,
as brief expanses of light
echo within galaxies lost to time
that soar through the night sky,
regardless.

When waking life is seen to be the waking dream

then Life, never parted from beauty,
is known once again in the heart of Awareness
and all of this enfolds itself inside once more,
and there’s no more gap.

the empty cup is full
but the dizzy dancer doesn’t settle for terms.

it’s all too much sometimes
too much to take in
so there’s a melting into the words of a song
and then the song melts itself into the motion of silence
and then it springs backwards into fireworks over the bay

stillness laughs
and motion snores
and everything between is singing for us to remember

because there is nothing to fear:
not a belief, not a thought, not a dream nor a nightmare

the one in charge is good
we have a good captain on deck

I only know because one time I glimpsed the sunrise after a dark night,
a night when everything collapsed,
and now I know.

or, maybe, now I know I don’t know much but
what I’m trying to say is:

The sun doesn’t stop rising,
And we are all children of the sun.

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