There are no Words

Dispose thyself

so that the air about thee

does not move.

Make thyself small and quiet.

Withdraw into the cell of thought

where consciousness of Him

Who is thy star

bestirs thy laugh

Let the unknowing past

be reconciled to earth.

All is prepared for thee.

The angels wait.

There is, upon the line

no still, unquiet thing,

except the restless mind,

uncentered

at the base.

The stillness falls

Light,

like a driven spear,

transfixes me.

Life,

of which my own

an atom is,

returns

and reaches out

into an everywhere,

a universe

where mover is

and moved

and where no words are.