The comfort of stillness
Can break my knees and lock my spine
And I question the pain and effortless violence
So meticulously executed, even before my awareness
As waves like celebration flags
Ripple through dense tissue
And tickle forgotten dimples yearning to be seen
I notice because I am doing nothing
Stillness invites interpretation
Or the understanding of it
I am no longer roaming fields of angry daisies
Where curious fingers disturb the ants
I see transformations
How summer can brighten stained glass
So I close my eyes and do nothing
To see layer upon layer of translation
Where clear visions are decorated
With young numbers and early sentences
But the whole self is nothing I have learnt
It is the growth of a bitten nail
Or fever sweating out the swords
The whole self is happening without my interference
I see all this
As I close my eyes and do nothing.
