Zen Nihilism
I feel, that sometimes, existence is an ocean.
Filled to the brim; overflowing; breaking with waves;
At other times everything seems like a motion,
Moving, like a death procession, towards the graves...
Silence and emptiness often pervade and fill
The cores of the deepest corridors and nooks
When noises decrease and calmness, like winter's chill,
Adorn the depths of my heart, altering my looks...
Space, like a vacuum, is formed for peace to stay.
I touch, feel, and find people and things as they are.
There is nothing to cling on. Things are new each day.
As the flux of water in a stream, I flow far.
Often, like stock-taking, my being is emptied.
Worn-out things are replaced with commodities new.
The light wavering within, with new wicks, steadied.
I see persons and events in a sanguine view...
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