Kensho
Sometimes,
like the reverberation
of a temple bell,
the work
and the worker
become one.
In that special moment –
I, not I fade,
past, future,
even knowledge
of the present
evaporate.
For that moment, then,
the sound of
one hand clapping
is quite loud.
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Me, I glimpse it, and it runs away. I am lazy about meditating.