Diving my hands into a rusty bucket,
filled with words of wisdom,
my fingers come up stained-
Each set of syllables seems
to be just out of my grasp,
as if what I want to say-
is beyond mere words. Truly,
how do I describe a sunset
to you, if you do not see the same
array of colors that I do?
And how to share with you,
the bliss available in each moment-
by simply being?
Perhaps this exercise is in the end,
just like all the others, another lesson
for me- to listen beyond the words
not being willed- to the breath beneath,
which defies all attempts, to describe.