I like it out here, where no one can see,
Far from any notion of myself.
Here, I am no one, and yet, I Am.
Out here I am Unclothed.
Can you imagine the Delight,
Leaving that scratchy garment behind?
Out here no intercessor stands,
Between the arising and the arisen,
Between Heaven and Earth.
Out here I am far away,
From the raucous din and clamor,
Of the spiritual bazaar.
“Shhh!” We don’t debate out here,
Where “Truth” is a word,
In a land where no language is spoken.
Out here I care nothing,
For what others think of what I think,
For I care nothing of what I think.
Out here thought and feeling arise,
Only thinker and feeler are lost,
And the River Flows, undammed.
What Rapture, out here,
Where I Exist without existing,
In the Answer to every Prayer ever uttered.
What a Blessing to discover,
Out here,
In Here.
– Chuck Surface
this unlit light 