Equally empty.
Equally to be loved.
Equally a coming Buddha.
On deep muddy banks
of a river I do not think
of these;
I let them go,
shake them each off,
move like water over stones;
water in sunlight
or dry light or night dim rain —
it’s all the same, yes?
I shake them off, as I said.
I take one deep breath
then continue forever:
equally empty;
equally to be loved;
equally a coming Buddha.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
onward,
T
Dark Matter 
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