The Call 1/3

Without a doubt, now that I’m looking back on my life these last 15 years or so, I can tell there has been a call.
Something that has been calling, thousands of times, probably millions of times before I started to listen.
Someone has been knocking on the black side of my eyelids, before I could event start to hear the knocking sound,
Something has been sending signals and impulses through my diaphragm,
Urging me to sit in the middle of the night, and lay on the paper a translated version of the inner currents,
A version made of It-words, pressing beginnings, persistently agitating thread ends until they get noticed and translated.
Translation itself is more or less satisfying.

In the dark corridor of existence, grains of light have been appearing under each door.
One corridor, hundreds of doors, one light behind.


Something which is my whole life has pushed open the doors and showed itself behind each.
Something has revealed being one behind all doors.
Something that sometimes aggregated into someone,
Someone which later dissolved into something.
Bodhicitta, the awakened mind, spirit of awakening,
The spirit of God, the Nature of the Buddha,

That which has always been knocking behind the black doors oy my closed eyelids,
That which has been sending signal withing my chest.

That which you may have started to acknowledge, water and cherish,
That which is the root of Poetry, the Poetry behind every line of Poetry,
Realization behind every step of realization.
That which is coming from beyond


Part 2 : The Call 2/3

©FJ April 2022 – Groupe De Pratique
Recueils — Participations

Many thanks to all