the stream enterer

coming, going,
here, there,
no gap.
how, the crow asks, can one be two.
stream sound.

can many be one?
is loving the world separate
from loving oneself?
released, the hand fills the hand,
and the vast sky sure doesn't hinder white clouds from flying.

what is apart from your birth,
what has not gone into your making,

has not led to you,

does not, indeed, flow from you?

fathomless this bag of bones,
this stirring center,
interweaving within, about,
beyond.

dogen warns: "do not suppose that what you realize
becomes your knowledge and is grasped
by your consciousness."

a gust of wind italicizes you, your.