The monument sits still, unmoved and unmoving
on its pedestal in the closet. It does not think
and it does not not-think. It is just there,
totally there, utterly plain in its bearing.
Without thought the rock rests deep and silent
like the smile on a stone Buddha, and like a stone
Buddha smiling it attends to your hunger.
The bare thing is as it appears and it abounds
in its appearance. It does not believe or grieve
but dwells in blissful light a reverent matter.
Alive in its recital alone, the bare thing
conceals more than it reveals. It pleases
your need for things pleasant and true and good
yet will not exhaust them or extinguish your greed.
You and you alone know your heart's desire.
You and you alone can quit the craving.
Thou shalt cling to nothing, not even
to not-clinging.
Adapted from The Bareness of Being.
