Where can we go where we are not our self? Why do we seek outside pleasure when the self is the greatest joy? Veil after veil, truth deepens.

Here is Where

As fire in fire rests,
I want to create a desert
and hold nothing.
The morsels I carry
dug in the ground
where they remember
their home placed outside
of quietness.

The sky rains with seeds
and I seek to grow
into the barren action
of completeness inside.

I can not revel in my skin
when my mind aches in separation -
how can I grow toward you
when I do not sing?

There is only persistence:
to follow the sounds
that keep my eyes,
or to watch my steps
into the garden.