Trust The Tide

The Tide goes deep and deeper still.


I do not hold, it has gone on.


Here the pain. Not me to fix.

Witness. Ever deeper, where now the pain?


All doing done, who holds who is held?


Who I really Am

No beginning, only Process.

The Spirit reincarnates.

Birth and Life

The meeting of the unfolding and the experience.

Layer upon layer of delusion.

I have become I and forgotten.

Yesterday was and tomorrow will be-or so it seems.

No now.

An Empty Bowl

I have a metal bowl.

It was made by the latest in a lineage of such bowl makers.

It is empty, though the Ocean is in it.

If I strike it, it rings and that is useful.

I can put flowers in it, that is beautiful and that is useful but it wont ring.

My grand-son could pee in it and probably would and that would be useful but it wouldn’t ring.