In the absence of everything but beauty.

 

Only in mine eye shalt thee be one,

For mine is the eye outside,

The eye that is not an eye,

The seeing that is not seeing.

The knowing that knows nothing;

For I am the I that is not an I.

 

When you look at me, what will you see?

No – not even the darkness.

When you come to my door, where will you be?

No – not even anywhere.

And when you ask of me, who but an echo …?

For I am the silence and you are the noise.

 

This is the absence by which presence is known.

This is the zero that adds up to one.

Here is the space that takes up no room.

Now the eternal outside of time – not even an instant.

Behold, it is the infinite stillness:

The empty oneness of Nothing.

 

If you will look quietly into this void,

You may glimpse the Absolute;

For if you will dare to see without fear

You will know at once that there is nothing to know

And if you will understand without grasping

Everything … Everything … Everything.

 

There is no story to tell, no purpose to unfold,

No secret meaning to wrench from mystery.

Neither is there favour or judgement, nor journey to endure –

Because we are already here.

In the indescribable, awesome embrace of Nothing.

In the absence of everything but beauty.

 

For that which is without form or feature,

Without person or plan,

Which cannot be divided,

Nor contained by word or thought or wisdom –

This is the unity by which unity is known.

The eye of Nothing, in which Everything can be beheld as beauty.

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