A disciple suddenly discovered the richness of fecundity of emptiness -- the realization that everything is impermanent, unsatisfactory, and empty of self. In this mood of divine emptiness, he sat in joy under a tree, when suddenly flowers began to fall all around him.
And the angels whispered, "But I haven't uttered a word about emptiness."
"True," the angels replied. "You have not spoken of emptiness, we have not heard of emptiness. This is true emptiness." And the showers of blossoms continued to fall.
Spirit cuts like water though it all Carving out this emptiness So inner eye can see The soaring height of canyon walls within Walls whose very color, texture, form Redeem in beauty all my life has been The darkness and the light, the false, the true While deep below through my parts To resurrect my gravebound heart Making, always making, all things new.
