I came to the end of thinking finally

I came to the edge of thinking, finally
to save my sould from ever wandering in a circle

I looked outside the window of my cave
and saw there was an outside
but no inside
A dark inside, but no outside
And nothing containing it all

The edge was the middle
The emptiness was the support
The giving up was the getting
and the thoughts were there,
but not the thinking

There is no leap, for there is no leaper
There is only the falling toward the no-ground
(or away from it)

Expanding now with the time since the beginningless
Thrust with the rocks of space ever further toward
the non-boundary

And the pen and the puzzle here
I the puzzle looking up at the pen