Maire Fisher

Through the  blue

He craves this tomb,
a granule of being around heaven
where nothing is – no body
But looking still
takes an earth-blue shape

And
always the birds by thousands
the world holding its place.
Their music comes down
and round and into the sleepy caves
planting little grains of gold.

Shutting away from breathing now
the air moves back.
The eyes, looking through the blue
speak silence – that’s all.
The heart opening and shutting
unlooses the centre and collapses.

In this time after visible present,
he stands in the nought and  owns nothing.
All soul now, walking,
walking the eternal eternal.
Eyes opening – and look.
The past, the world –
everything fits in it and  fades away.

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