Coba

We are gathered
on the pyramid,
at the temple.

We merge into
the rocks,
into the stones.

Deeper and deeper,

Till time slows.

The wind passes.
Ages and ages
roll over the earth,
over my body.

From one tree to the next
ages and ages
roll over the earth
over my body.

Till all is enveloped
back in silence.

The leaf falls
for an hour at a time,
slowly dancing to the earth.

Humanity rushes back and forth
back and forth
back and forth
against these stones,
waves crashing upon the shore.

Each time a different name,
a different face,
but always the expression
of the one Soul,
the one Time.

In that time,
all problems,
all challenges,
all beliefs
all ideas,
are not.

Only the sound of that acorn,
breaking from branch
to branch
to branch
is...