The Empty Page

E.B. White writing in his boathouse

E.B. White writing in his boathouse

Dropping the anchor,
To try to find the middle ground.
Down into the “I don’t know” rather than the forms.
There is a hesitation.
In the chest, a question is uncovered.

Is it true?
Grounded in my abdomen,
I see that this turning inward, is just as vast and nebulous
As launching outward.

Opening to where I am, now
At this table writing, and listening.
The weight of this body sitting here on the chair changes
and a fragile silence appears
that is louder than me or you.

Breathing in and out,
in profound exchange.
Of emptying and filling
Silence and sound.

While navigating varieties of lost.
The light in the room shifts and
Something changes.
My abdomen is trying to tell me something
But the language is lost in the process
Of trying to find the right words.

–Luke Storms


  1. Thank you very much for this reminder. Individuals and also the Gurdjieff community are taking this step (although really a non-step, a non-effort) more and more every day on the road to inner transformation as shown by Mr. Gurdjieff and Jeanne DeSalzmann and Michel DeSalzmann and now by scores of others.

    This piece could be the theme of that inner non-effort. Just a beautiful work.



    I sit back into my body and type.

    And Listen.

    And Breathe.

    And involuntarily Sense Parts.

    I AM. No, really.

    “I” on the in breath. “Am” on the out.

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