Mud

I am a lotus, you are a lotus, Jesus a lotus, the Guru a lotus, the dearest golden poodle a lotus, all floating on one still pond of solitude, equally radiant, inseparable, entangled, with pale green stems undulating from the same luscious mud.

I never hear the breeze whisper, "This one is the Master, that one is the Savior." I just hear a breath rippling over the waters, singing over the pond, "How beautiful you are! And you! This one has blossomed, that one is next! How beautiful!"