Belly of a Star

my practice of compassion



I am searching beyond the starlight into the caverns of unknown, the deep dark space that collapses into itself and leaves me barren with questions.

Scraped out and open to all that is. All that will be and has been.

How am I, in this space of no space, ascending beyond without leaving within?

Am I not just a fleck of nonsense absorbing the currency of thought, scattered dividends of yesterday’s theories; my own mind the orchestrator of a tune that erects circumstances.

Had I not been where I’d been, where would I be? And how is it that everywhere I go there is this pressing truth of not being?

Am I free-floating in the vicinity of reason, circling as particle passed the orbiting truth without recognition, skipping by what is there, blinded to what exists? Bumping into random spectators and retreating through the passenger train of strangers.

Am I?

Or does this being reflect the potentiality of what could be, the waiting point, the singular place of beginning brought back to itself from the end?

A loop of circular life, receding and retreating, bleeding out and returning to the outskirts of humanity.

I am tormented but the totality of thoughts circumvented, as breech baby turned stillborn.

I am this drudger of no-man’s land, excavating desert storms and transforming the blind into seers.

This one with emptied eyes being the essential self, left barren still.

2 thoughts on “Barren

  1. Yes, both maddening and enchanting, this life .

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