Useless Shimmers

It’s the lack of depth that saddens me the most about the people I still interact with.
Contentment for surface relationships.

Even if they move in stagnant waters and, for some, know it or foresee it,
They bury their heads in wet sand.

In order not to see that they do not see,
In order not to have to realize the magnitude of what they do not realize.
The morbid, sordid escape into psychological games and political bread.

I, who am here, I no longer seek.
I wander alone among the forest of blank stares.
Tired of excited eyes
They connect with each other like lightning streaks the surface of the water in a swimming pool.

Just as fleeting, the networks they draw are only reflections of their actions, their thoughts, a mirroring self-reinforcement.
Crossing their gaze is often painful to me, especially on days when I have loneliness over the shoulder.

I understood that it was not necessary to speak to them. This is useless.
I stopped trying.
In books, I still understand what, a thousand times already, I have understood.

I have the moon left
Even full, it does not smother my heart.

I have the night left,
The posture of listening.

The Smiling Buddha
The Buddha, my heart, the moon, suffering,

Like the Buddha holds me in the palm of his hand
May I one day hold the men who are lost there.

©FJ June 2022
Groupe de Pratique
RecueilsParticipations

3 commentaires

  1. You are alone in your quest.

    As are we all.

    Seek not a companion on your path. You may see another walk parallel for a while. But that is all.

    Loneliness is merely the yearning for what cannot be. Another who walks your road. That person is you. It can be none other. Those you see on their ways also walk alone. Their superficiality is their hiding from the essential loneness they would seek to deny.

    Aimé par 1 personne

    1. Still, I do believe there are friends to be found along the way.
      But however I wish and try to convince myself they are walking beside me, I cannot refrain from realising this companionship is, as you mention it, temporary and somehow ‘parallel’.
      Practice, then, is an apprenticeship of loneliness, a taming of those wild surges of inner energy consistently aiming at fighting back this loneness.

      Aimé par 1 personne

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