Center of all centers, core of cores,
almond self-enclosed, and growing sweet–
all this universe, to the furthest stars all beyond them,
is your flesh, your fruit.
Now you feel how nothing clings to you;
your vast shell reaches into endless space,
and there the rich, thick fluids rise and flow.
Illuminated in your infinite peace,
a billion stars go spinning through the night,
blazing high above your head.
But in you is the presence that will be,
when all the stars are dead.