Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind...
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death."
Balance
A deserted longing amidst the dark
melted the image I had in mind
I weighted and found it floating
between essence and time
no haste among the living
a continous balance beyond my horizon.
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"Thirty spokes unite at the single hub;
It is the empty space which makes the wheel useful.
Mold clay to form a bowl;
It is the empty space which makes the bowl useful.
Cut out windows and doors;
It is the empty space which makes the room useful."
-- Lao Tsu
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