Master and Fool

The fool never gets tired
of three things:
drinking strong wine
from his own heart,
reaching the goal
on the first step
of an infinite journey,
and running his fingers
through the wise fur
of a brown four-legged earthling.
Now get good and lost
until you find yourself
beating at the door
of this fool’s hut.
Knock and he'll cry,
'Who's there?'
'It's me!' you'll reply.
And he'll answer,
'There's no room in here for me!'
So you'll spend a thousand
more lifetimes praying,
fasting, giving alms
until one day, weary
of all your goodness,
you'll wander to that hut
and knock again.
'Who's there?' he'll cry.
'Nobody,' you'll answer.
Then he'll open the door
and hug you with fierce joy,
uncorking your heart
so that you too can taste
the dark vintage of wisdom
that's been aging in your chest
since the day before
there was light.