65
there appears to be a hand – a rather small right hand
with a favored fountain pen – Waterman, from Paris
miraculously making marks – aquamarine, tidy,
on paper – white with blue lines,
in a notebook – small, fat, spiral-bound,
and a brain that directs the hand to
make clusters of letters and words,
which it can then re-cognize
yet no-thing here has a hand or a brain;
yet no-thing here writes or reads
if this sounds like a riddle
perhaps it’s because you
take yourself to be
a person-package …
gladness –
packages were made to be unpacked!
~
echoes from emptiness 
just now found this blog
yet it was here and now all along
a Present
Presence
So glad you landed here Darla – I wouldn’t have known about your wonderful blog otherwise!
Thank you for leaving a comment. And for the link-love.
In love and gratitude
~ miriam
This poem comes out of pure, impersonal, uncontaminated awareness. Hence the concentrated focus (“infinity in a grain of sand”) and the simple, clear, precise observation of detail within the field of vision. Here there is no interfering by the mind (or ego). The concrete ‘becomes’ universal. It is all in the seeing, the perceiving – ‘no thing’, emptiness.
Alberto, you have written such an exquisite response to this little bunch of words – thank you – your writing carries the same echo of emptiness to these ears!
In the shining awareing that we be
~ miriam