Traveler, there is no path. The path is made by walking. Traveler, the path is your tracks And nothing more. Traveler, there is no path The path is made by walking. By walking you make a path And turning, you look back At a way you will never tread again Traveler, there is no road
Sacred Art
When one expresses an idea concerning the Divine, It is so woefully inadequate it may as well be wrong. With language we misunderstand each other all the time, So why do we suppose our babblings ‘bout our God to be so strong? We must begin somewhere, and human language is a start, But other modes
When one expresses an idea concerning the Divine, It is so woefully inadequate it may as well be wrong. With language we misunderstand each other all the time, So why do we suppose our babblings ‘bout our God to be so strong? We must begin somewhere, and human language is a start, But other modes
Rengetsu — “Lotus Moon”
I recently encountered the story of Rengetsu (1791-1875) — a Japanese Buddhist nun with an extraordinary story. She was the love child of a geisha and a high ranking samurai. At 10 days old she was adopted by new parents. As a teen she was called to serve as an attendant at Kameoka Castle, and
I recently encountered the story of Rengetsu (1791-1875) — a Japanese Buddhist nun with an extraordinary story. She was the love child of a geisha and a high ranking samurai. At 10 days old she was adopted by new parents. As a teen she was called to serve as an attendant at Kameoka Castle, and