As the seasons come, go, leaves drop from maple and oak. Snow appears one morning; on the car, blowing around on rooftops, the squirrels more rarely appear. Some days begin with a thirst for insight or ultimate wisdom. Some days begin with homework and coffee. Insight is the taste of french roast with my tap water, made in my french press. That moment is all there is. Statements such as this block the flow of time, which is the revelation of what we are, no moments, no stopping. Ponder, and it is there in the pondering. Look and it is the seen. What more need of description? What more need of some 'thing' figured out or figured on?
Seasons - Zen Inquiry