| Poetry Offerings from Myonahitori |
I try hard, to look for the creator in all things. The possibilities
narrow, of where It is not.
I try hard, to remember where It is, and
to realize where It must also be.
I try hard, to communicate with the animals,
and the plants,
and the bugs.
I try to let them know, we are all equal, we are all
friends, and that other humans do not see this...and are scared.
I try hard to see the God of gods,
that blows the wind,
that moves the grass,
that hides the bugs,
that move the soil,
that is the Earth,
that burns inside!
the cockroaches come into my house!
When I walk out into my yard,
I step on the ancient,
so I take off my shoes....
It is as old as the rock that
spins in the universe.
And above me,
great herds of cloud make their way...
who knows where?
This thing! this system, It is so old,
and yet It blooms anew everyday.....
I call It mother, She calls it US.
The sun shines on everyone.
We all know that a power like the sun
can not be hidden,
or all that it feeds, would surely die.
If such a power exists,
that all that breathe and grow,
are nourished by it,
and none of these things give anything back,
If such a power exists, that it burns itself
for ten billon years, with no reason,
that it has created and fed the infinate things,
equally, and without debt,
If such a power shines on us everday,
then why do men keep looking for it?
The sun never hides what it is.
It does not change to those who question, or study it.
If it happens to remind you a little of yourself, let it.
If you seek the Great Teacher, It is here.
It has been here ten billon years,
and said nothing,
but has shown,
Copy the Sun.
to children to Moongate