Wednesday, November 17, 2004

Zen Song

Song of the whirling Zen- bowl,
great hands stirring light and shadow body,
around and around,

north, south, east, and west

embracing all, centered in stillness,
this timeless turning,
wide sweeps- the wheel spinning,
spokes increasing towards infinity,

reduced to the edge,

how lonely to dream homeward.

Blessed journey, out to in;
inside, where Nirvana sings
sacred whispers, resonating song

of the whirling Zen- bowl.



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