Only in absence will I know how the bird feels, gliding over the tall tree. Only in absence will I know how to dream with eyes that do not blink. Absence is like an old abandoned house. Entering an empty room with an empty chair, stepping over the dust of old footprints where might solitary foots once tread. Only absence can show me how to be without form, without meaning, without life, without death. I once met absence on a rocky ridge on a bright clear day without mind, without sound, without I, without you, only absence. He stood there on a worn trail suffocating, choking me like some poor helpless infant. I thought I had died there but I woke, finally knowing how the bird feels.