we are on earth
with the gifts of life
& each other
what will be left
in a short
so long?
what we were
is our mark––
what we are
is an impossibility
will there be sound
in the next
forever?
moon announces
the seasons––
the master doesn’t mind
waiting
water keeps flowing
with hunger &
sadness
fish follow the patterns
of fish––
wakeful birds
whistle
the master ascends
the mystical mountain
& descends into
clouds
the rush of passing
rain
vanishes
into silence
minutes & seconds
grow suddenly old––
time disintegrates
awareness bids
adieu to our monkey
minds
leaving screeching jungles
far behind
what will the silence
teach us
when we’re free?
how will
the yin-yang music
sound?