The nothing

Over my shoulder
     the shadow eyes watch
In the tiny hairs of my ears
     the shadow voices whisper

I do the crossword
     The shadow helps
     slyly suggesting words
I look out the window at the rain
     The shadow says
     It comes
     It goes
I regard the mirrored mouth
     The shadow asks
     Who’s that?
I tap my feet
     The shadow says
     Wanna dance?

When the shadow speaks
     there’s a pulling.
An in-breath.
     Drawing, searching gravity.
     Loneliness.

There’s also
     a pausing.
An out-breath.
     A sweeping. A clearing.
     Solitude.

At the mention of solitude
the shadow mouth
     turns up its corners
and the shadow eyes
     glint

The shadow is not
     an other
Not a space
     holding a place for an other

It’s wu:
the nothing.
     The vastness
     capacity
     void
     field
where lips
     droplets
     jukeboxes
     thoughts
     the ten thousand things
     that constitute the universe
arise
and return.

In the void
     of the shadow soul
loneliness
     the breathing-in
draws them forth.

In the vastness
     of the shadow mind
solitude
     the breathing-out
sweeps them back.

As the ten thousand things
     arise and return
     lips
     droplets
     jukeboxes
     thoughts
wu
     the nothing
     the shadow mind

whispering loneliness
breathing solitude

sits on its barstool
watching them all