I could try calling out
And say that I want something I only suspect exists -
The vast simplicity of emptiness.
I could wish for the subtle strength
To cling to a trembling light without crushing it
In the palm of my sweating hand.
Could I even see the wish taking shape,
Floating on two wings, then four
Then a thousand - flying farther away.
But I am still standing
To notice what remains,
My hands curled into fists.
I hear the voices of countless wants
While I stand taking on a growing chorus of shouts.
Here, behind the noise, wanting brings nothing
But more of itself.
What if I could swallow sharp edges?
And what if, one time, the sharpness passed through?
Could you make that happen?
Lay your hands over my ears
And bring silence to this ceaseless sound?
I can feel you repeating the words with me
Today could be the day.
Today will be that day.