Beyond the gods of everyones’ words,

above the forest’s canopy

and below, far below

deep river-cut canyons,

there exists all of that which has no name,

and never will.

 

We will run out of answers

before we run out of questions

because the best answers

give rise to new questions.

 

It is in the throne room of silence then,

that galaxies become lovers

and give birth to bacteria.

And it is from nameless, invisible oceans

teeming with mysteries

that Brahms Symphony No.1 in C minor,

Jimi’s “Electric Ladyland”

and the colors of ecru, mauve, and

burnt umber (among millions more),

rise.

Read other chapters of reaction to the Tao: taochow.wikispaces.com