![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
more zen zombie poems
From the branch,
the ripe peach falls.
Rotting flesh or fruit,
all form is emptiness.
Recalling this,
move beyond fear
and sever the head completely.
The gifted blade is already broken.
The special round is already jammed.
Carry the kind gesture forward,
by surviving.
Embrace impermanence,
upgrade often.
the ripe peach falls.
Rotting flesh or fruit,
all form is emptiness.
Recalling this,
move beyond fear
and sever the head completely.
The gifted blade is already broken.
The special round is already jammed.
Carry the kind gesture forward,
by surviving.
Embrace impermanence,
upgrade often.