Remain
Like this...
How does one breathe
when the air has turned to stone
How does one stand
when the ground is no longer there
I called to the dark
and nothing returned
I knelt at the edge of the world
and it would not open
How does one speak
when the words fall away
How does one walk
when every road turns back
I carried this weight
until I disappeared inside it
I wore this silence so long
it became who I am
Is this where you are
have you always been here
beyond what I could endure
beyond what I could see
We have been here
We have always been here
Before you
After you
We remain
Then tell me how
how do you go on
How do you make it
when there is nothing beneath you
I did not rise
I was not saved
I only remained
and remaining was enough
We remained
When the night would not end
We remained
When the names we loved were gone
This is not survival
This is older than survival
This is the part of us
that cannot be undone
Let the world be too much
we have been too much before
Let the weight be endless
we have carried what has no measure
We are not whole
We are not healed
But we are here
and here is vast
Here is vast
Here is ancient
Here is everyone who broke
and did not disappear
You are not the first
You are not alone
We have always been here
We remain
How does one go on
Like this
Like this
Like this…



We are all the same, one or another way, sooner or later or simultaneously
We are not whole
We are not healed
But we are here
and here is vast
Here is vast
Here is ancient
This reminds me of something I sent to another Substacker yesterday
suggesting an alternative to his self-tormenting biography:
"Drop the pen
then silently, patiently
drown mad mind
in the mystery of Being that is always Here."