like birdsong beginning inside the egg


There is an excess

in spiritual searching

that is profound ignorance.

Let that ignorance be our teacher.

The Friend breathes into one

who has no breath.


A deep silence revives the listening

and the speaking of those two

who meet on the riverbank.


Like the ground turning green in a spring wind,

like birdsong beginning inside the egg.


Like this universe coming into existence,

the lover wakes, and whirls

in a dancing joy,


then kneels down

in praise.