Ponderings in the Rain

I.
There is only The Way
The exhaustion of the body through hard training
The winter air that meets hot skin
The stream that rises into space
The spirit
is of body, mind, and nature
Here, the Self is again

II.
A warm hermitage
The musty sweat of one’s life
The pure air of winter
Heat and cold meeting and dancing
One is the offspring of a cyclone
Pure, flawed, and innocent

III.
It is easy to remain still while submerged in peace
It is harder to be a stone in a coursing river
But one must learn

IV.
There is the quiet of one’s life
In it one may find the riches of dreams
The garden of one’s mind is abundant
Flowers are in bloom at every moment
A single moment’s realization is all it takes
The source of all treasures is oneself

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