Tiny waves are playing bright,
Teasing Autumn’s golden Light,
Chasing pebbles ever after
With ripples of their crystal laughter.
Ducks shoot across in furrows
Like boundless flying arrows,
Or gently float amidst the stream;
Don’t care about their lucid dream.
Joyous chatter in the breeze,
Dripping dogs about to sneeze.
Liquid time comes rolling by
And vanishes without a cry.
Ever flowing, ever staging,
Like throbbing thoughts rampaging;
Our struggle may prove meaningless
In its realm of Nothingness.
Yet all knowing, kind and whole:
Patience stills the dancing soul.
Deep surrender pervades its hide,
Still rage grips the almighty tide.
Please consider yourself growing,
Awake! And feel your candle glowing.
Still you must die before the gate
To reclaim your hidden fate.
…All this conflict, and for what?
Shall this be my bloody lot?