wound periphery

Star log

Lightfall stream

‘Round we go

Coloured terrain

Clay hands / fingers

Great Speed

Sensations careen

Aware of pervasive emptiness

Note records cresting the outermost clay rim

Far from here

Moulds of time

Shattering

Dust maiden sweeping bones at the edge of time all day and night

Not one left behind

Holding asks a return

Just is the maiden sweeping

Resting in her arms

Becoming our powder form

Upon the wound periphery

Gathered for no one

Gathered nonetheless

By whom?

The maiden herself keeps time

Accidentally keeps the record

Mindlessly minds their accumulation

Being itself the answer she reclines

Held along the rim by seeds and patterns

Sleep comes in the deepest dark

Fear sleeps

The Loving Stillness pervades

The recline is interrupted by the sounds of herself sweeping

Simply, there is the job to be done

Coming to from the deepest dark

When the work is done the rest comes easily

The cutting stance and yet,

I am not here to dethrone you

I will sit so very close to you

And silently transpose the great understanding

This is my wish

Transmit silently through falling words

Those who see through form

Know a translator is flawed

The teaching pounds

The end of fear in the deepest dark

The fruit of supreme stillness

The shine of the immeasurable

Without ears we know the sound of the beginning of time

We emit the sound of the beginning of time effortlessly

The sound and power of the beginning-less beginning.

That is all, without end

In form the clearing of borders

Allows for essential radiating

Absent is the notion to do

Repose is not an idea

It is the shape of refuge

All bracing points at misperception

© Nicole LaLiberté