Golden Lion

Sure, everything is finite in this very the best of worlds.
Water flows in the river, clay flows on Uboch
and even granite flows.
We just don't see it, but we know.
We say, "Time flies."
But who can really feel it?
Who knows for sure the nature of time?
I stopped dreaming of a career as a theoretical physicist,
when I realized that I could not explain for myself
 the basics for the fist year student:
"time, space, mass".
Of course, I could pretend to know
that I accepted the postulates
and everything's fine.
But least of all I wanted to lie to myself
and I decided: basta!
I'm going to read koans
penetrating into the mystery of Zen.
I traveled through the woods,
peeking out of the top of the mountains.
I watched the stars and the distant fires below.
Someone enigmatic inside me was lifting my hair
and turned my consciousness upside down.
I went down to the valley, bathed in the milk pond,
left it shining with that unearthly light.
However, few people saw it in me.
And that's good, because they would crucify me
or putting me into mental hospital or elsewhere.
Now I'm sitting on the sidelines.
I meditate. A fluffy cat sleeps on my knees.
There's on the top of my head Sirius,
in the bottom of my heart the Sun,
and under the feet the  Golden Lion.


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