I clog up in so much activity.

I clog up in so much activity. Eternity spreading in fleeting sways fills me to the brim and batters me. Stunned, I burst into tears, repentant over missteps I am convinced I will repeat. I am no one; rather, my body is under the direction of the terrible nothing.

But I return, take medicine and set myself to reflect. I find my center again. Here, where the eternal being lies. Firm, solid, unshakable, impassive. I find that I am the one who watches it all. Anchored here, I direct my life energies toward action.

No spectacle, no glorification, and above all, no complacency. Pure gratitude in quick, impeccable maneuvers. No overwhelming sensation will blot out for long the sharpness of my stalking.

Content, I embrace the passing storm as my beloved battlefield. Satisfied, I receive the cruelty of the world as my favorite field of peace.