“God is too much in love to explain.” — Saint Theresa of Avila
There is light
and there is mind,
The boundaryless breath
and the sound,
And if they seem
so much the same
indeed they are.
There is no stillness
not a kiss,
No silence
lacking love,
Nothing needed
and withheld
that’s not a gift.
Yet you wear a grief
like a shroud
So no one sees
that you are weeping,
For tears must have
a reason, to vindicate
your feelings.
Can you hear the screams without pain? It's up to you, the world's perfection. Sensations go through the skies and come inside the windows. You alone decide.
