Watering a Seed (borrowing from great enlightened minds)

Restless mind, just listen,
like you know no better:
the days aren't days,
or minutes that are fragmented
seconds of the infinite.

It's a suchness of life not separate,
a song that pervades us in all directions,
yet only touches us when we're carefully sober,
not praying for sun or rain, nobly
resting unattached in a middle way.

Why not oblige the stillness?

Everything else has been wonderfully set in motion
We have nothing to do
But to not have something to do.

It's only when we sit still that we feel;
we are truly being moved.

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