There is a man who preaches.
Preaches with a voice of spring’s wind,
the love of a sugar lump and a June of sun.
Poises and juxtaposes beliefs,
mustering companions for the struggle,
for no one is one alone.
Preaches as if the universe understood,
spoke languages or heard prayers,
as if this magical power was neglected
by only the whole animal realm.
And preaches, as if his language could
attain what mathematicians never won.
And he preaches for long;
the duration of water in a creek
dismanteling an obstacle stone,
sand bit by sand bit
on its search for the unique river,
wide open to a dreamed ocean.
Yet the stone is a diamond;
countless perspectives reflected within;
Light the answer the question Light,
which no water was set to see.
