There is a small light flickering between the leaves.
It is morning, that is all I know, want to know.
Couldn’t that be enough, just this?
I don’t know why the light attracts my attention.
Light wants to go to light, maybe that’s the simple story.
Still, before light goes anywhere, it is already indivisible.
If there is any sound, it is my own sound, I hear myself.
I hear myself being the sound of the world, its music.
Mind can’t conceive of no beginning, yet it is so.
Some kind of overwhelming desire creates enough
pressure to produce a musical climax, which allows
galaxies, star systems, and planets to be conceived.
Before all of that, I am a piece of light, flickering
between the leaves. It is morning, that is all
I know, want to know. Yes, it is enough.