By reader adrenalin:

On the tip of my tongue sits a silent ecstasy
always on the verge of breaking out
but never quite aware of itself:
chanting mindful melodies
and colouring the cities of dust
with rainbow anecdotes
Most of the time its tininess is not revealed
realization blocked in gridlocked thought-traffic
but still it's ready any time,
any moment, ready to jump and turn myself
inside out
outside in
blowing out all pain and misery
bowing gratefully to gifts returned
offering all suffering to the whirling winds
merging with a mirrored mind behind the moon
receiving dreams from the stars
and memorizing the sun's sacred rays
by draining conciousness of every concept
and knowing anything by heart
no need to search anymore
the marriage of World and Witness
is celebrated by my seeker's steps