Not a poem

“It’s too much for the mind.”

It is. So (almost as if it’s tangible) I use my two open palms to put the paradox down on the ground in front of me. I let it remain whole.

It’s constantly changing, spinning. Neither here nor there. Neither one thing nor the other. It’s spinning so rapidly that it rises up and floats in front of me where I can see it.

It’s beautiful.

And the pleasure surprises me.

If I pluck out the fear or risk, the balance is lost. Yin without yang drops, clatters on impact.

So instead, I inhale deeply and open to the full experience of being an animal on earth.

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