The Old Man

Sitting in the corner
is an old man.
He is cracked,
humbled, full of wisdom.

I gaze into His eyes
and another dimension
opens up.
He sees into me,
he peers into my soul.

There is no exactness
to this science.
The cloud of unknowing
parts and I see clearly:
How is it the old man is me?
I am Him? 

There is a place where everything disappears from existence, and the dance of life and the dancer are one in the same.