Even in the storm,
learn.
Even in confusion,
drink from the stream of knowledge.
Do not ask whose hand pours it,
nor whether it is friend or foe.
Do not shrink from its strangeness,
nor hesitate in pride or prejudice.
Take it as the thirsty take water,
without question, without fear.
For this is the power
that turns seed into stem,
pupil into soul,
and lifts the buried breath
from darkness into air.
To learn is only a tuning,
a turning of the inner dial
toward the vibration of growth,
toward truth, toward light,
toward the waves that echo your essence,
woven of memory and lineage,
warp and weft of eternity.
Every seed carries its map of the stars.
Every scattered dot awaits constellation.
Every self lies asleep in a dungeon
until the music of being,
the promise of light,
calls it awake.
See how the swan-neck of the soul
stretches upward,
beyond the shadows of mankind,
beyond the walls of fear and intrusion,
beyond the hoods of belief and division,
beyond the borders we raise
to guard our fragile togetherness,
against the very togetherness itself.
