To think that all that matters
Is not the words but the acts
The Act of silence
of speech
of communication
The Act of listening
The Act of not sharing
The Act of sharing
Not a giving but a sharing
A reciprocation
A dialogue
in which silence is noisy
This is the face of vulnerability
The other possibility
a turning around one’s self
A whirling in one’s own center
Not a dance
but dance is still the option
I’m not ready for dervish whirling
forgive me
a bad dancer is better than
one who doesn't dare to step in
convinced that he'll put his foot in it
Shame is not an option
when what matters is to be
The many references
The digging and turning of soil
the excrutiating effort
that precedes a rest
I’m young enough
ignorant enough
When the final time comes then perhaps it’ll be possible to shed one single seed and drop the shell that so carefully played the intermediary but we are not there yet. Do you wish to wait until then?
An exploration is such
That’s the invitation
Not a tablet of fixed knowledge
But a map with many options
contentment in the journey
A North
But still far from destiny
And yet,
having said all that
Whirling won't stop me!
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