Don’t tell me what I must see.
I have no trust in your beliefs.

Things change.
Beliefs change.
Everything moves
like shadows in smoke.

The world is alive
dancing,
making love,
breathing heavy:

Out...
flows life from apparent nothingness.

In...
we return to everything.

That’s the living breath,
the sweet pant of Mother Earth,
who can never rest
and loves us so.

She must continually
eat her young
to feed the new.

So what should we believe?
What matters?

Who knows...
I can only trust
the silent authority
of experience.

I am here.
I am alive.
I am me.

If truth is true,
let it come unspoken.
Let me see.

Then I’ll know.