If stopping were easy,
a thought beam
properly directed
would thread silently
through atom after atom
and bring the entire universe
to a standstill.
An empty mirror
reflected in itself.

If stopping were difficult,
the spider mind would jumble on,
piling thought on thought,
trapped in its own web;
the threads spreading out in all directions,
the atoms like so many jostling beads
dancing and tangling in ever clashing patterns,
keeping the entire universe
in eternally pulsating chaos.
A many-headed monster
glaring at its own reflections.

Not easy.
Not difficult.
A judicious response
to the Problem of Pain.
A letting go
of all phenomena.



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