I Sit with Silence

I sit
with the silence of the Golden Sun
which emanates all energy of all life and more
and utters not a word for it

I sit
with my eyes closed watching
the alternating layers of perfect fit Inca stones
rotating and grinding the being of beings in between

I sit
with the wind whistling through my nostrils
as it does in a valley of endless swaying knee high grassy patches

I lie down
observing the weaver of life
in my head, weaving a cloth of world
from the threads of sensations
by no means is the lone form the cloth can take