I saw things as things and as dust of things,
living dust, teeming, assembled, disassembled,
One then the other, one and the other at once,
a whole beach and fine sand,
The grains blown by the winds, aggregating into a beach before my eyes,
a blink later, become scattered grains again, and the beach is no longer truly there.
My body in billions of specialized cells,
into agglomerated organs,
a blink later, scattered.
I saw this in the calm, without the fear of disappearing,
he who has seen knows that this body is and is not, that one, who is it?
Neither that which comes into being,
nor that which scatters
For a moment, he believed himself to be
that filled with a great calm,
Where I dwell,
All is and is not,
at once.
Joy of what is,
Wisdom of what is not,
To live in the world that is
between two blinks, two breaths,
To know that what is, is not,
that what is, all, is only by virtue of an expectation of seeing it be.
Through what is, that is not
Yet, I am.
I thought that what was, always ended up not being.
I saw that what is is not at the same time as that is.
At the same time: absence of time.
My inner eyes make things be and make things not be.
The angle of my inner gaze sees things to be and sees things not to be.
Does this mean that I create the world?
Before « I create, » before « I believe » the world,
To truly see is to see being, to see « being » and to see « not being. »
What I saw, assembled, disassembled, was in water.
Water was the environment where all of this became visible.
Notes & Silence 