Feelings and Forms

Light is always looking for something to burn. Give light silver and it might turn into gold. The light will close your eyes. You would close them anyway, eventually.

Standing in the light, you convince yourself that you are the subject. The whole world is looking at you. Close your eyes and you are looking at you, too. Pen your eyes and the light steals the show again. It wants to convince you that it can show you everything, but all it can show you is everything else. The darkness is really what's worth looking at. The shadows are where the truth is revealed. Shadows are forms. Light is the void.

What's there to see anyway? I mean, what's really worth seeing? If everyone is not free, then no one is free. If everyone cannot see, then no one can see. So what can everyone do? What can everyone be?

Not everyone can hear the sounds of crickets in the evening. Not everyone can smell the sweet aroma of chrysanthemums in bloom. But everyone can feel gravity's gentle tug; the planet spinning, hurtling through the forms and the voids. We can all feel the water, on our flesh first, then in our mouths, and eventually in our lungs. We all drown in our feelings, eventually.

Maybe don't look with your eyes, then, but look with your feelings. That's how to see what everyone can see. To feel what everyone feels. To be what everyone can be. In the darkness, that pregnant realm of forms and feelings, that's the place to go to escape the silver and the gold, to escape the light, to escape whatever might seek to burn you, close your eyes for you, snuff out the part of you that's bigger than all of this, the part that's always known the world is bigger than knowledge, misery, and delight.