The sum of all energy in the universe burns
a candle before me. The flickering flame
mimics divine dance steps, and as I begin
to move along with the silent rhythm
I want to offer myself up to the altar.

Unfortunately, upon meditation all I find in my place
are words, and even these words can’t be my own,
for if they were they would have blown out
the light already. Instead, they continue to multiply
into an infinity of paper lanterns delicately strung
and glowing along the road everywhere.

I follow them out of my cement cell,
and they suddenly become unnecessary
since over the mountainous silhouette
that moon you’ve been walking under
for months on end has arisen, finally
gushing into this canyon’s stillness
to meet two eyes.

In less than a year I have lived a lifetime
working as a blindfolded photographer,
but tonight, over silver stepping stones—
no camera in hand—
something impels my feet down to the shore,
and after stumbling so long ignoring its emotional call,
I entered the river.