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When a door opens

There was never an obstruction

In the first place:

Once something has been seen through,

It was never there


Things are in constant motion,

The world will never sit still,

Without a past and without a future

It will just appear

And then be gone


So it appears there are no causes

And therefore no effects

The various identities

All emanate from their centre

One point that never moves


And all the movement

Embodies the stillness

This is why every development

Seems a home-coming

To what always was




The young blackbird

Dream of...

I remember...

Who knows where my feet are wandering