How harsh and hurt my heart formerly weighed
In my breast when the cricket chirped.
But I forgot how hard it is to be human.
When people are afraid of people
And fear them more than wild animals.
But I forgot that the error lies with me.
Sand and dust and dirt
I recognized as delusion,
And suffering, and loneliness, and pain as a gift.
Be grateful for each disgrace and agony,
Advance toward the sunrise.
Many lives fought and suffered through,
Looked into my own children's graves.
Having reached the breaking point,
The heart can no longer endure.
The journey home begins,
The door is open.
The heart in darkness rears up:
Never give up before it's time!
Icy cold creeps under the skin and
Reaches for life:
Is there yet a road through the fog?
Is there still Tao in the fog?
Singing and murmured whispers and sacred smells,
The voice of Master: Welcome.
The homecoming; All other falls away, pure joy.
But only briefly.
Return once again.
To fetch those who are still cultivating.
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Category: Journeys of Cultivation
