Some days I want to rest in years of silence
in which to think
Some days I want to soak up years of watchfulness
to see seasons bloom and fade
to see people grow and die
to see words flow across pages.
Some days I want to dirty my shovel
dig into fertile soil
beneath flowers and trees
beneath worms and rocks and roots
to find bedrock truth
to devour it covered in honey
wrapped in dandelion leaves.
Other days I want to practice
meditation in the din of crowds
and name-calling abuse.
I want to learn about the nature of God
through the eyes of the people
smushed belly to butt
street after street
with the singular purpose
to feel the music.
I believe what is true today was true yesterday
and will still be true tomorrow.
I believe it is still true in noise or silence.
I believe it is still true whether one believes or not —
Across philosophies. Across religions.
Across time and space
and absence of it all.
I believe if I keep my eyes open I will see it
everywhere I look.
It will stain my eyelids
until it is all I see.