As surely as the waters flow down to the sea,
The life of the creative soul drew out in its unfoldment.
Watching the screens of life pass through endless forms,
Not attaching to their movement nor their presence,
A sage watches all with a focused contentment, but with naked eyes.
Lashing out to catch the setting Sun was the role of the beast,
Instead one may find themselves pondering the life-cycle of the swimming koi,
Or quietly composing poetry at the garden gate.
Bearing gifts of the ancestors,
Guardian comes from afar,
To hold the Phoenix’s tail,
To speak of the Dragon’s boon,
To sit atop the mountain looking down from outside of time.