Knowledge in grass
I lie in the grass
in the countryside alone,
stretching out my arms beneath the sky.
Although in life the underlying things seem of most importance,
I release them from my hand.
As I let them fall and shatter, I breathe.
In my breath I consume the world, though
it remains intact. I lose myself in thought
and I lost my thought in breath.
Beneath all the nothingness, it was me. Not me in entirety
because my feelings were non-present.
It was me in wholeness, in fullness, and contentment. It wasn't
me, it was I without distraction. Beauty in deep, dark,
emptiness.
In school they taught the five senses, I suppose they do still,
but never had they told of them dissolving,
as mine had now. Did they know? Do those who
so say to 'know' the world absorb it? Do they let
the world inject it with knowledge or do they mimic
the needle it pokes with
and fill themselves up with their own wisdom?
My thoughts awoke me in a whirlpool of upset meditation
and I reentered the world's surface.
Again I was in the grass,
in the countryside,
beneath the sky.