No one hears us now. Good.
Praise was always a way of not looking.
The boat moves. We say the shore moves.
From this one mistake a self is built.
Look at the water:
nothing on board was ever still.
Firewood does not become ash.
We do not say winter becomes spring.
My mother is not behind me.
Her death has its own before and after.
Between the two positions: no passage,
and no distance either.
The moon does not break in the dewdrop.
The depth of the drop
is the height of the moon.
The fish swims, and the water has no end.
This is not his tragedy; it is his life.
Had he demanded the whole ocean first,
he would have died of the demand.
Understanding does not precede the swimming.
Where you stand, the way is realized.
Not known: realized.
It takes a lifetime.
It does not take a moment.
Written in Yerevan, Armenia, on June 22, by Cornelius Climatus.
Copyright @Cornelius Climatus, 2026.