The Stream
Through water
the same unfolding, narrowed to fragments where attention met water.
Perhaps emptiness is simply that which permits creation.
Awareness is Nothing, because it is Everything.
The Lake asked for neither.
The waves arrived first. Everything else followed.
The lake offered no lesson, yet I left having learned something.
The waves had not changed. Only my willingness to move with them. Practice is not conquest, but belonging.
The rain never falls on the same lake twice.
The lake held the colour of rain before the rain arrived.
The lake did not ask for preference. It simply received whatever arrived.
Some places are remembered by the body before the mind.
The cold asks for full attention.