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Caroline Voclain

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Night-time darkness.

A point of stillness forms

within a darker mind.

Beyond the glass and brick, a grateful shield,

the wind is fierce.


It is no threat.

It is not distraction,

but a path that opens

connections, conscience and realities,

and suggests choice.


Freedom in flight?

Or immobility –

greater, unthought freedom,

both hidden, yet revealed, in emptiness?

To move, or be?


To feel the air

bend the eagle feathers?

Beating breast of muscle,

searching out a landscape, unfamiliar,

by mind perceived?


Or know nothing,

being the observer?

Stillness that is carried

always and unseen, rarely suspected

in every soul,


strange, inviting.

And yet there is no choice.

Movement and emptiness,

within this nothingness, are both the same –

for no thing is.

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