Author Unknown

March 13, 2010

Into a soul absolutely free from thoughts and emotions even the tiger finds no room to insert its fierce claws. One and the same breeze passes over the pins and valleys yet why do they give off different notes. No thinking no reflecting perfect emptiness yet therein something moves following its own course, the eye sees it but not hand may touch it “The moon in the stream” Victory is for the one even before combat who has no thought of self abiding in the no mindless of the great origin.