Your purity is my temple—
a spring, a crystal pool
where I wash my face
and the face of my soul.
In such purity,
I become a pilgrimage,
a passing through—
crawling legless across the hell,
walking wingless,
limping shoeless,
shoelaceless.
I melted the solid world
so my fish could swim toward you.
I turned to substance to move,
became liquefied.
I turned to fish—to swim, to flow.
I became a bird—to fly toward you.
I became a mammal—to cradle a mind,
to forge the rods,
to build the wheel,
to teach it to take off,
to defy gravity,
to break the sound barrier—
for you.
From the moment
I was born in space,
I lived my life denying it.
For a timeless man cannot be held by time,
cannot be bound by the prison of now.
For within my finite form,
the seed of infinity is sown—
for the finite is but a grain of infinity.
Space itself is the staircase to omnipresence.
To reach the moon,
I had to learn infinity
in every single finite step.
I walked the earth for so long
only to learn how to leave it.
I ran every distance
until I denied distance itself.
For no one ever loses anyone
in omnipresence—
not to time,
not to space,
not to distance.
We are only separated in the solid world,
but in the soul, in love—
there are no barriers.
