It’s a silky silent night to disturb and write…
But the hooting of the owl, trilling of one lone cricket nothing moves but the mind.
Almost a benediction holds the stars touching the earth, night dew gathers softly around what vegetation remains of rains of the past…
Oh the mind, the mind wants to be, to be, feels throbbing of the body, wanting to disturb rudely this nothingness…..
not in fear but persistent feel, feeling the being here, now in this silence a witness who wants to say, I bear witness, only this I, the observer of nothingness that holds finite infinity that knows no time or measure….
All at once is here, right now, here, here…listen….
The owl does not tire, nor the cricket…holding this holy silence of the night!