There seem to be two kinds of searchers: those who seek to make their ego something other than it is, i.e. holy, happy, unselfish (as though you could make a fish unfish), and those who understand that all such attempts are just gesticulation and play-acting, that there is only one thing that can be done, which is to disidentify themselves with the ego, by realizing its unreality, and by becoming aware of their eternal identity with pure being. – Wei Wu Wei
me not me standing on the pier not pier
bait the hook, cast the line, reel it in
fish not fish flopping breathlessly upon wood planks
i not i ponder size, weight, and hunger
shall it be cannibalism, then?
serpent eating its tail?
how many meals sit upon the table
how many burps of ignorant indigestion
me not me full of fish not fish
sibilant choking hiss
as the tail finds the stomach?
me not me floating in samsaric waves
such a tasty morsel, must have it
bite, swallow, moan mindless desire and delight
suddenly hefted upwards
blind by unexpected sun
burning touch
no air
flopping helplessly
breathe, breathe
but it is impossible
sting of deboning
the plate is cool
no longer able to react
is this the final course?
the moon is flat, white tranquility
like a fish’s dead eye