Trapped in Zen

Trapped in Zen

The balls are hitting each other, the bell ringing.

The tea is bitter and tastes like something I tried long ago, maybe several lives back, further even, the original flow of the river…where it all came from.

Slamming doors and slamming chants an army of gongs, singing bowls, hummings and asymmetric verses transformed in perfect conscious harmony, I want to leave this garden.

Soon, before the Buddha awakes. I’m told it is a huge rock made man that eats people while smiling.

The stronger the separation, the stronger the connection in individualistic minds that dance trying to become one and nothingness while everything stares through the bushes pretending not to be there.

I give in, I quit quite quietly, without ever looking back, never looking back.

The effect of such ridiculous transformation is felt throughout and once more I have failed to focus, meditate, and breathe.

I have failed to live.

God will spare my sinner soul, since in the end the justification won and all of it was but a memory, a grain of sand graciously falling through the hourglass; in what seemed to be,  forever.