Speakers

There are some people who can speak to the prophets

Don't ask me how

Don't ask me what they hear

   or what they say

   or who they are

But I suppose they stand in a place of quietness

A place where beauty fills their face

A place where the majesty of the mundane

Erupts like a sunrise

And in that place they find them

   the ancient ones

The shepherds of the flock of man

The ones who gathered and fed and protected us

The speaker stands

And slowly they approach

Like whales coming from the deep

One or two, or more, will surface to meet this swimmer

Slowly, fully, they approach

And the speaker forgets who he is

Forgets THAT he is

All he knows is his stand

Like a bush rising from the desert

Then the prophet stands before him

And this is how they speak

By standing

The facing of one soul against the other

Is far more than speech

The facing is a merging

The presence, full and oblivious

Is all the talk that is needed

And then it all begins to fade

Consciousness returns

And the speaker, remembering he has a body

Will stretch out his hand

Do not leave me!

   he seems to say

Leave me with a sign!

   he seems to say

But he will not be attended

The apparition will fade

Like the receding tide

There was nothing you or I could do to keep it

These beasts from the deep

No one can tame them

They will return to the deep

The speaker is left alone now

In a deeper emptiness than before

The echo that comes when the hall is stripped of the last twig

HE is that echo

And his existence
   the empty hall

There are those among us who speak to the prophets

Who stand in that place of silence

Where majesty irradiates from the mundane

But what do they say?

If even they don't know

How can we?

Arise and face the world!

Stand, only stand

And open your spirit fully

   to that which faces you

And like a sail

   you will be caught by a wind

Now violent, now peaceful

And the world will open up unto you
   its hidden dimensions

And those great shepherds shall emerge

And speak to you in their speechless speech

And sweep you empty
   hollow like a flute

And like the flute you will weep

Like the flute you will weep

And this weeping will strike the hearts of men

Who mistakenly will take it to be
   a message from beyond

But you will know it was only an echo

Only an echo

   of your own abandonment