The Lake
When the winds of desire die down
and the hand of ignorance folds,
the stillness of our quiet slumber
turns the mind’s lake placid
We reap the bounties of forgotten bliss
as the rest of our machinery sleeps.
If only we could remain awake
to witness such ripple-free quietude
As the lake renews itself
drop by drop by drop
it prepares for the countless thoughts
that churn the depths upon waking
One cannot swim through the lake
when hands and feet are busy elsewhere,
and want makes us rigid as a stone
dropping us straight to the bottom
Unable to move or rise, we helplessly watch
while supple thoughts swim with gentle ease.
They own the lake, but we can be friends
once we tame the headwinds of desire
Ripple
In one moment of time
life is wrapped up tight.
Find still water and set
your ripple in motion
to your true nature.
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