"My thoughtsnever really leave my head.
When I write them down,
they are only strands of ink
on paper.
My computer documents,
only space
on machinery.
My body, a combination
of flesh and blood.
The soul is the spark
I've discovered.
And also that it doesn't belong to me.
A gift received, but not owned.
The one thing that gives our lives a go.
This mighty, omnipotent thing.
Yet, there is no name for it.
No place to go see it.
Only thoughts.
Maybe these thoughts.
Maybe not.
I heard someone say that if you're listening
then you will hear it.
But only if you're listening.
I don't know what I'm listening to.
I'm sure I'll know
when I do.
Everything that's real,
everything with meaning,
and all the eternal energy we could ever understand,
comes from it.
It is the source of me lying here
and writing this word.
These words.
This book.
This life is
without a beginning and without end.
Without explanation.
Writing is my explanation.
If I keep writing and writing and writing more
then it will begin to form the letters.
The combination to the lock.
So that I may know what so many knew before me.
There is something there.
Beyond all comprehension,
that no person in the whole world
could ever explain.
Why am I here?
Ask yourself for a long time
and listen twice as long.
It never comes as words.
Only in thoughts.
In music, in dance, in love,
in kisses, in laughter, in silence.
In dreams.
In the actions we are compelled to perform
when our mind is empty.
To trust completely and without a doubt,
in that flow which is
the abiding unknown."
