Empty spacious contemplation
Leaves no traces in the mind,
A trance for every whisper
Every prayer you left behind,
A name for every moment and
A day for every word–
It is nothingness that calls to you
A ghostly voice you heard.
And it cries out in the darkness,
And it laughs whene’er it rains,
It can scream and shout then
Gently, softly whisper back your name.
It won’t let you go unhearing,
Lost in form-filled narrow worlds
When it calls to you to come and run
With boundless joy unfurled.
And yet we hide our faces,
Daring not to see that there,
Where we hear the echo of our soul,
There’s nothing more than air.