Walking in the gloaming wood,
gently bathed by its mood,
the mind awake, wide-opening,
the heart now shyly following,
the gut yet lingering on hold,
there, in fright and flight mode,
a lone doe from out of penumbra--
a stark still-frame in the cinema
of dusk -- gracefully bolts away,
vanishing tracelessly like a fey
ghost into the infinite abyss ...
as form dissolves into formlessness ...
It's then I know, so inexplicable,
I and emptiness are inextricable,
bereft of all but the eternity
of this ineffable mystery.
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