People of the invisible: rejoice
We are here now together
In this white sun
That burns away the ages of grief
Of trying to see what is not visible
And trying to fit what is seen
To what we know but are
Scarcely aware we can remember.
All the knowing is in there
Along the sun lit fields,
The tinted mountains,
Hanging from pineal trees,
And we can leave it there,
Trusting its existence as our own
Or we can claw
At what loosens with effort, the residue
Of what's no longer in us,
What the filters let us see
And the critics make whole,
What once sufficed, as our being
That shines behind the sun
And seemed to be much more.
It exists, my friends, outside
Our narrow, where what is further
Awaits our gaze: the fruits
Of equilibrium, the silence without noise,
The holding of our beings
For as far of infinity as we can go.
