[From a letter from Augusto Al Q'adi Alcalde, 04/14/01. He says this was written in the Australian bush. Doug]

 

There is a solitude
essential, palpitating heart of our steps
there is a solitude like bones
not merely in the universe
but with it in togetherness
among, like hand in hand eye in eye step in step
as & with every single rock, cloud, river, being
it dawns suddenly as our own dawning
filling all space and time
as our foot is covering
the whole of the ground at each step
there is no place where we turn our dancing
or looking, or loving, where she's not smiling
wetting the bones burning separations fertilizing breath
unfathomable beauty beyond thought & feeling
alive as a rock as a falling leaf as a breeze
not isolation but solitude
as of each beat of our heart
no form colour shape or quality are her wings
seed sitting forever everliving not growing
but fertilizing with maturity with no time
'cause no time can produce this
maturity with no roots or cause
fresh as ourselves sharing this very word-sound
new, will never be has never been
aliveness herself, and not the ashes
of the known, of 1+ 1 = 2
this is the heart of all creation
the bone of all love
as this breath, this heartfelt certainty
of "not complete", not yet complete
sweeping the ground of pain in joy
alone dumb and backward, choosing to differ,
nesting in the mother's breasts
this is Heart flowering as love and attention
with no continuity like an arrow
diving as the night into the unknown.


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