There it stands
at point zero
between nothing
and everything
at the threshold of light
and night.
Simultaneously
indiferente
and in waiting
holding all possibilities.
from that space flows everything
everything conceived by the mind.
It constructs the world,
stone by stone.
It tears it apart word by word.
There it stands as a granite wall
preventing the honey from flowing.
There it stands
always,
bringing together all possible journeys
to one intersection.
A perpetual offering.
The end and the beginning...
There is language.
There we are
confronted with it
comforted by it
burdened by it
freed by it,
with its slipperiness
and apparent steadiness,
as it gives and takes.
There it stands
shaping life and being
word by word
towards understanding
or misunderstanding
according to our vision or limitation
as we flow, in passing
towards the light
or the night.
If privileged, towards the open space of silence,
in waiting,
at the crossroads of all roads...