Your Buddhism Has Made You

The Taste Of Rain -- Why Kneel?

I Felt Like Lying Down By The Side Of The Trail And Remembering It All. The Woods Do That To You, They Always Look Familiar, Long Lost, Like The Face Of A Long-dead Relative, Like An Old Dream, Like A Piece Of Forgotten Song Drifting Across The Water, Most Of All Like Golden Eternities Of Past Childhood Or Past Manhood And All The Living And The Dying And The Heartbreak That Went On A Million Years Ago And The Clouds As They Pass Overhead Seem To Testify (by Their Own Lonesome Familiarity) To This Feeling.

Struggle To Sketch The Flow That Already Exists Intact In Mind.

The Human Bones Are But Vain Lines Dawdling, The Whole Universe A Blank Mold Of Stars.

You Are The Equal Of The Idol Who Has Given You Your Inspiration