Sometimes the silence is unbearable
crashes all around
in storm-tossed waves
inside my head.
No guru,
no Beloved
to save me
from my sinking
into oblivion,
no fire-ball sun to set on
my shivering poem,
nowhere on earth
or in heaven
to call my home,
and
I laugh in spite of myself,
my mirror my only obsession.
Now empty of all promises
to keep,
hopeless,
I feel the truth
passing through me
like bliss.
