Watching the flow
of middle-earth
as all things go
from birth to birth.
Here, one can know
what it’s all worth.

An empty tide
of rise and fall.
Nothing outside
is mine at all;
nothing inside
nor large nor small.

The mind reflects
vague shadowy drifts.
The mind connects
blank mists with mists.
The mind projects
meaning – where none exists.

Rich and poor
in ragged procession
pass the door
and dispute possession
of what they cannot own;
like dogs, growl and groan
over an imaginary bone.

Ever so long ago. Today.
And ever-after.
Tears will wash away
your broken laughter.

.