munggu, bali, 2026 almost to the point of silence the ever unpointable flickering on the threshold of not knowing which way to fall words fewer than before when the dark had sprawled beyond questions street noise birdsongs from the eaves brushes of the morning quick against the sky the rain has almost stopped traced before us a trail scattering of clouds do you rejoice do you regret

we can say it with silence our native tongue - w.s.merwin * things falling away arrayed yet ungraspable slowly the hand opens the mind stillness is * the heart realm of all paths the home crossings here and there movement incessant closures none * in its fullness just empty space knows no hurdles the heart * whose heart whispers here in this mountain heat bracing for winds unflinching * everything opens up is laid bare before the rocks before the sky becomes breath * ni