Once upon a time,there was a Zen signat every small railway crossing in AmericaStop. Look. And listen.

The most expected thing you can expect is what's unexpected.

You listen to people, you listen so deeply that you can hear their past lives,The crackle of their funeral pyres,

itt was snowing as if you could hear wolves howling

Question everything, even the question mark, that shepherd's crook floating in the air above that small round rockIf you - stubbornly - still wish to be unhappy,maybe you can grasp it.

I just take my three swings and go sit on the bench. I don't ever want to mess up my swing.