emptypot

Epiphany

The twig is caught in the flow of the stream.

I am the twig; I am the stream.

Life is a dance

within a dream,

of the twig

and of the stream

 

 

In a clear pinpoint moment,

all of time,

all of movement,

and all of mind.

They are the threads.

They are the tapestry.

They are the karma.

 

 

There is a thoughtless intention,

A silent grace.

A desire to bring all pains,

and in this place,

ferment until only bliss

remains.