The Paper Flower

Some will tell you, that we hold a paper flower in an endless night - who knows? Some will say only our dreams are awake - who can tell? Do we ride this cosmic river in a leaking boat, or are we all the radiance of the Buddha, already enlightened - maybe the paper bloom is note fake aftercall. Today we see a goat riding a donkey, Tomorrow that same scraggy goat is the mighty arch-angel Michael and the donkey is your mind; a shining steed for one thousand more angelic beings. We don’t have to take one picture and hang it up forever. The picture gallery is endless and always evolving. Some say that this world is on fire but then again maybe we are that refining fire? Many contend that it’s possible to see what others will always miss or miss what other’s will always see. Who knows? A new tongue between old lips, or an old tongue between new lips; let your tongue and lips be strangers. Perhaps that paper flower is a symbol of our impermanence, or just maybe a perfectly created sign of an ever flowering eternity - that just might be.