“
Be water
,” was
all I ever heard
from the Tao.
And Mr. Lee (and his little bag of tricks).
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So I sat in a marsh.
It was rich, vibrant —
teeming with
life.
Water
, after
all
, is
life
. I basked in it
; I swam in the mud
, even threw it on
my head
; I chewed
on the grass
with my teeth
; I gazed
into the sky
while my soul
filled with infinite
love
.
But what does it mean
to be human?
I’m not a Buddha —
I could stay in the marsh
— is where the lotus flower thrives
, of course
it pushes through
the mud
to reach for the sun.
Lotus lacks legs,
but it still has dreams
of Icarus
burning from the roots
up
.
To be or to be
a man, that is the question:
I am water
but even water
forges a path
as it flows.
A gradient, a direction —
flow like water and
create its own path
; in harmony
