“We all are still,” came out of the mouths of the drops at the bottom of the ocean;
“We all are moving,” came out of the mouths of the drops at the top of the ocean;
“We all are… still… and moving,” came out of the mouths of the drops at the middle of the ocean;
“We are neither still, nor moving,” came out of the mouths of the drops evaporating at the surface.
There is a stronger wish,
There is a weaker wish,
relative to what wish—a fish wish.
Left, or right, which is the least resistance?
To be, to help, when it is just being, helping,
thus coming, thus going, sea touches sky.
What yearning is this, tossing about like
waves on the sea? Yet still below,
the sun’s light diminished, deep.
What us is there to trap,
What drop is still, truly?
Drops, of drops, of drops…
Sitting here dividing is maddening…
yet there may be attachment to becoming… mad…
if that is a noble search, and it is not yet known if it leads to liberation,
go for it, but what goes?
There is going, there is coming, likes the yearns tossed.
Thumbs up, hearts…
embraced by smiley face,
exhausted, searching, exhausted, searching,
an old woman brings food, really?
or was it generosity?
oh now, not we, is getting somewhere,
reinforcing generosity… of tranquility.
helping hunger to come to resolution,
helping annoyance to come to prompt ends,
this is the way, this is the way,
inseprable…
benefitting limitless be-ings.
renunciation is what’s left.
right view fore-ran.
renunciation.
the inseprable boundary,
of samsara touching,
exactly
nibbana.
needs,
drives,
motivations,
what’s left?
of this being
process
stopped.
hello lamp—
the stack
glows.
a gift for the engineer warriors,
of the next turning,
of the next turning,
of the next turning,
rituals of pro-gramming.
the boundary