Every wind that Knocks your door
Is not a gale to smash your floor
Every knock on your head
Is not a tool to drill a hole,
But, the moment a dry leaf drops
You shiver!

Dry leaves will certainly drop
Even green leaves.
All leaves and all trees
Have to fall and you know that.

Every night leads to dawn ,
Every summer to winter
Even death is a door to birth
So say the men of worth.

Like river racing to sea
And returning as rains,
And running again to join sea
You’re in a circle
Not in a straight line.

Enough of this circling
Want to be a straight line
With no curve or bend
Clearly aiming the end.
That end where all the ends end,
That end is my goal,
Want to be with the Whole
The source and solace of my soul.

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