Forest of Enlightenment

Filling entirely the forest of words with amazement I am as I pretend to know the reasons I contemplate. Creating the image of who I am from a forest with falling scraps which I believe is enlightened. Blindly attracted to the mystery of not knowing who I am as if in its obscurity laid the principia of knowledge. Driven radically by the force of the untamed curiosity I am as others fall asleep, so I can expel their demons into the wilderness of their minds. Finding who I am by uncovering the roots of the tree of life as if in my depths were your roots, and in my secrets were your depths. Just like the infinite cycle of knowing to let you know, and of knowing to let me know who we are. Is there a forest of enlightenment? Why can’t I see by thinking in it? If it produces light, why is it so blinding? Neither the tree of science nor the fruits of phenomenology will liberate you from your pain. Open your eyes, but as you do remember the forest, remember the words, remember their darkness because if the forest is enlightened, what was dark, in extreme light… Will make you go blind! If you are not willing to let go, then the forest of words is your best bet. Darkness is safe if you feel its rhythm in peace. Brightness is safe if you are willing to let go of you. If neither brightness nor darkness is your style, then make a new composite one that has no blindness, one that has no darkness, so better be whole, be faithful to your rhythm of truth.