From the bottom of the night
He laid a hand on the notebook
Holding on to a crevice
On a rocky face of the mountain,
A desperate grip to save
The whole body in its fall.
Touching Reality, ending the spin.
A gesture in despair, saving the entire being.
Geometrical fixations are smashed to pieces
When the hand touches the object.
Incarnation instantly ends the fall.
The joy resulting from this last resort hand
Outstreching, with no one left to believe in
Against all odds and sayings,
Saves us from relentless twirls.
One moment after the other,
The power is the same,
Our being becomes movement,
Our gestures embody,
Manifest Reality.
It welcomes and pampers
The mind carelessly diluted
In wild streams and stagnant waters.
What Zen knows
Man has to discover
Again and again
Franck Joseph
©FJ March 2021- All rights reserved.
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