Life is a story – the body a book. Be all that is needed Let everything fall way Accept – without complaint, what is Turn a corner, cross a bridge Enter another way – the true way of no-thing. Life and death are one Stand in the gap between them
Here lies the old self Her story resting in her bones Smiles and frowns walk side by side She joined the ranks and marched To music Composed by others Her own sweet song unknown
Until she listened And a garment given at birth Tightly woven into patterns for all to see – unravelled Silently, unperceptively in every conscious breath – Awareness of presence unravelled it Now gratitude compassion and understanding Reverently surround the remains of this woven treasure Here lies the old self.