No division as we float amongst each other,
Resistance, a faint sound, hollow and vain.
A silent whisper, gone unnoticed.
The Sun is shining,
But her children are not dancing.
There is no play, the streets and the night,
Lost its stars.
Vi laugh into emptiness,
Instead of drinking the fullness.
Here we are again,
At this silent table.
Too serious to notice life that occurs
Underneath the tablecloth,
Where children are at play.
The moon yawns, she’s light and bright.
Open and empty.
Tranquility is fostered, on mountaintops, it seems.
When ready to descent,
An untroubled liquid birth takes place,
Released into the stream,
That just floats.