The vessel of our thought, full with voice,
The absence of all that moves,
A sign of doubt,
A stitch in time too still to touch, too slippery to climb.
The zero of my world,
The start and end of all I know or knew,
With thought's unknown yet certain guest,
With love, the open ended view.

• • •

- Footnote -


The section of 'The World Without Money: When Alone' begins with the partner of solitude: silence.