Drifting In, My Dream

I pray before a round, empty altar. I stay here this way awhile and I like it. It does not feel lacking at all but is full of everything divine and wonderful and sad and vibrant and unknown to me, and I don’t take everything away, a cup of rose tea rests on the zafu now, songs I can hear, a book may be nearby, I can comb my hair, or put lotion on my skin here. My dreams may weigh a lot, but they are not heavy, to doubt the value is to me a vapor; it drifts away and disappears, and my dream will drift in with the most beautiful scent.

Yvo – Where You Are

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