Eye

I took off all my garments, layer by layer. I took off my bodies, one by one, from the gross to the subtle. I took off earth, water, air and fire. I took off my body of breath. I took off my mind. I took off my intellect. I took off my soul. Then I stepped into the black bath of emptiness, sparkling with uncreated stars.

This is why I ask such questions: Why do you assume you have an outline? Why do you assume you have edges?

Are you not a field without circumference, interpenetrated by countless other resonant fields? The fields around peoples' hearts? The field around the earth? The field of the solar system? The field of the galaxy? Are you not washed in Otherness? Are they not all your Self?

I think that, after all, this entire universe is contained in the still eye of a falcon, searching the night for movement.