The Art of Being Present

A human being thinks. Yet his greatest creations come When thinking stops.

After many years of forgetting himself, A person returns to a simple purity,

A childlike clarity. In that moment he both thinks And does not

think. He thinks like rain falling from the sky, Like waves rising

from the sea, Like stars shining without effort, Like leaves turning in the soft

spring wind. He is the rain. He is the waves.

He is the stars and the leaves. This is the way of Zen.

Life becomes the canvas. Hands and feet become the brushes. The world becomes