“People don't fear losing the dao. Instead, they fear suffering food that isn't rich, colors that are not beautiful, music that isn't soothing, and textures that are not pleasing.” -Zhuangzhi
“there is still, somewhere deep within you, a beast shouting that the earth is exactly what it wanted– each pond with its blazing lilies is a prayer heard and answered lavishly, every morning” -Mary Oliver
“You, afraid of dying?!”
You, who used to throw
laughing
her spear into the wind,
hauling it back, laden
with waffles and gazelles.
The prow of your boat
grazed heaven.
The wavelets, the worlds.
Now you sit,
fearing to balance
the scales of justice,
the platters of opportunity.
What if it's the last item
on your checklist?
What if afterward,
you had to leave?
You throw yourself
a bone
but cringe from its trajectory.
You can scare yourself.
You are flawed.
Are the flaws
a necessary delineation
or a defect in the stone?
Was this whole life
a test?
When you got so attached here,
did you pass
or fail?
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