Your hand opens and closes, opens and closes. If it were always a fist or always stretched open, you would be paralysed. Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expanding, the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated as birds’ wings.
I do not fear death. I had been dead for billions and billions of years before I was born, and had not suffered the slightest inconvenience from it.
Of winter’s lifeless world each tree now seems a perfect part; Yet each one holds summer’s secret deep down within its heart.
‘New’ is a beautiful word which opens up many possibilities. If every day can be viewed as ‘New’ then, life blossoms - like new leaves, buds, flowers and fruit - full of colour, fragrance, taste and rasa: the very essence of living.
