A Treatise on Water

The mind is like water,
The world is a riverbed.
Waters rush out—
A stream of birth and death.

A life of experience:
Ripples and waves,
The moon’s reflection
Untouched but distorted
Within the reflective surface.

 

The river evaporates
Into oceans of space,
Cradled by such even
Among its flowing
With the waves
As empty as
The open sky,

But in a different way.

When the waves settle,
And waters grow placid,
The full moon shines—
Clear, but not independent.

Still waters dissolve—
Moonbeams straight
To the bottom.

Image: Hilltop view at Night by relhom

 

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