The Seedling

In my early days

 I saw a blazing fire

 Just beside a pond

 The fire devours up all

 That comes in its way.

 The water instead of swallowing fire

 Holds the reflection of the fire

 In the calm and quiet breast of the pond

 Soon the wind joins with them

 It may fan the fire or put it out 

 It chooses the second,

 The shadow of the fire disappear 

 From the calm cool surface of the pond.

 

 I was simply struck

 By the nothingness.

 At about my forty's 

 I can only remember 

That those are nothing 

But the seedling of 

The inner consciousness 

Wakes up in my mind.