By Adam J. Pearson
Peace is not found in thoughts–
Thoughts are found in peace.
Thinking is agitation,
Fleeting forms flowing–
Through what do they flow?
What is this silence?
What is this stillness?
What is this aware emptiness,
That’s filled with a world,
A life, a feeling, a thought?
What silence answers
When “Who am I?” Is asked?
What is it that’s awake
To here
To now
To the spaces between thoughts?
We cannot find a name for it,
For what is deeper than the heart,
Vaster than the vastest,
Subtler than the subtle.
It has none.
Consciousness and awareness will not do.
Our fundamental name
Can only be uttered
By saying nothing.
Nothing is our true name,
The silence before
A mouth opens to speak–
Says all we need to know.
To be this vibrant nothing,
Not knowing, just being,
Is more than enough.
What’s awake to a human life,
Is beyond the human life.
Our lives are dreams
Within a dreaming,
Sand in an hourglass,
Fog on a windowpane,
Petals in the wind.
