The Spirit of Truth

Many will bloom on Easter,
but resurrection is a frost
and only those who do not exist
will be resurrected.

Do not be afraid of your own helplessness,
for your helplessness gives eyes to your eyes
that overcome even the greatest savage,
when they see only what they see,
and every story ends.

You are what you are,  
and the shadows are running after you.

But when darkness overtakes you,
it turns your sleeve around
and you are gone.

And yet you are
the one who does not exist
until someone bestows him his name
and moves him to tears.

Human, you are God,
but your way is your solitary confinement.

You do not know
that without a way of your own,
you would walk on water,
but now you are being flooded with water
in your own confessional.

As long as you exist,
are you a human being with two sides.
Defined by your own call and echo;
but within you, the One who does not exist,
is waiting for deliverance.

So, do not call out,
lest you be summoned
to a world that does not exist,
but keep silent
so that the One inside you can speak.

Although humanity sprouted its trees
and divided the earth into mine and yours,
you – just a flower of an invisible tree in an invisible field –
have matured.

Now you are falling like a seed in the wind,
but fear not, the field is endless.

Although it is full of artificial trees,
borders and rivers of human worlds,
they will now evaporate before your seed
like reckoning without a host.

For you are just nothing,
which deletes every reckoning.