AboutHe said, "it's not enough,"
so I died, just like that.
He said, "you are clever; full of fantasy and doubting."
The soul at dawn is like darkened water.
One night you crossed the street to the cemetery.
You heard me hailing you from inside,
and you realized how we've always been together.
I am the clear-consciousness-core of your being.
The same in ecstasy, as in self-hating fatigue,
The night you escape fear and all irritation,
you'll hear my familiar voice.
So don't fuss with your death shroud,
or the graveyard road dust.
Those get ripped open and washed away
in our finally meeting.
And don't look for me in a human shape;
I am inside your looking.
There is no room for form.