the push

a troubled soul,
gregarous, searching for flow;
‘but’ stood, leaning against, the bar.

yet not, looking for an angle.
so he did, the thing ‘but’ always does.

it wasn’t necessary,
yet, sufficient to make space;
‘me’ craved. it’s how it works, always.

the pushing away,
churlishness —
“sensei and nick are behind you.”

i knew what was about to happen,
yet what he did not know was what would happen next,
you see, they really are behind me.
we catch each others’ falls.

to stand back up,
with the help of each other –

and so he pushed, and the firmness,
of the original brain, resorbed.
i fell back. into. an ocean.

in this a new perspective
i had not felt

and to him,
that’s how this works,
i turned to bow1, and send that glorious manifestation on its way.

and not losing track, of that sun,
who will live to see another day.
amaterasu oho no kami, and
susano o no mikoto.

open the rock door,
we come to join it. hiding in,
embarrassment for living –
no more.

there is no need.
there is no need.
for this pushing away.

not one, two.
just one.

yes –
i pray.

not out of wish, nor out of desire,
nor hope, it is my honor for that
which gave birth, to me. a fold,
in space, and time: nibbana,
the foldless fold.

there is no need.
there is no need.
for the pushing of the way.


1 whoever knows the order, is standing near.