I embrace the nature of this present moment,
and take with gratitude this modest midday meal,
I caress my dish with eye, tongue, skin and ear,
and recognize that it is real,
As I appreciate the silence in the livingroom.
As I take a spoonful of the million conditions of existence
As I savor the smallest grain of salt
I let myself awaken to its profound significance
The craving cleaver carves the rock
Aspiring to the nature of his own flock.
We search for balance in the highs and lows
In the towering mountains of hope and the humble valleys down below
Oh, but when the hot blood starts pouring from the stone?
And the shadow of the mountain reaches out to seize one's own?
Do you forget from where you're come,
Or realize that this is home?
In the twisted threads of time
The sly fox whispers in your minds eye
He weaves tales of vastness, an endless sight
Of a lake basking in the moon's silver light
You'll savor the sweetness of the morning dew
And uncover secret brooks you never knew
A fog of faded feelings creeps,
His sacred sanctuary lost,
The light of clear sight,
Declines as death comes nigh
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