I don't know if I'll keep up frequent posting or not.
The unstolen acorn
dies beneath the tree.
The stolen acorn, unforgotten,
dies inside the squirrel.
Theft and forgetfulness: the staff of life.
We’re blinded by color, deafened by sound, numbed by flavor, maddened by gallops and hunts. When we get what’s hard to get, we get stuck. That’s why…
Thirty spokes join a hub: the axle goes in the empty space. Shape clay to make a pot: the water goes in the empty space. Cut doors and windows for…
Can you embrace your souls in unity, and keep them from parting? Can you focus your breath gently as a baby? Can you wash the dark mirror free of…