A plane makes majestic sound as it roars through the head of the sky,
A dog barks at a crane,
Which is shouting at it,
Protecting its eggs,
Sandalwood spray molecules dance in my nostrils,
Same space becomes larger deeper as sounds and images,
Occupying this vista subside for rest,
Not a trace of desire in the consciousness,
Its nature is being,
How could life long for death–the unknown?
All that is, is me,
All that was, was me,
All that will be, will be me,
And yet I am not,
In any of them,
Not even in myself.
I am not not.