It,......... is it's own explainnation

[Guest guest]

Countless waves rise and fallThe movement never stops.Once I pointed at the

wavesTrying to explainTheir power and their heightNot noticing the splendourIn

which this all took place.Mesmerised by sight of movementTime and time againI

tried to catch the waves,With all the means I could invent;They were so dear to

me.But all the tricks did fail.

 

 

A compassionate wave saw my despairAnd pointed out to meThat movements are not

to be caughtBy this, movement itself.

If I am movement, I replied,Do tell me then, who moves?

The wave just rose and then it fell.No wave was left to tell.It just returned

from where it came,The water, quiet now,As if it never wore that form,Displayed

a blinking smileWhen it was mirroring the sun,That was playing in its turnWith a

cloud, just passing by,The game of hide and seek.And this play, this movement,in

order to be performedneeded no questions, so it proves,No answers were

required.It gets performed, just as the waves,Like springing from its

source,Which, as rumours go,Is mentioned as no-movement.And it returns

apparently to this same silent stage,As the no-movement, which, as it is

said,has never ceased to be.

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