The journey of a 1000 miles begins with a single step

The Wind of Impermanence

Source: The Wind of Impermanence | Great Middle Way

muertos2Will I die first, or will my neighbor?

Will it be today or tomorrow? We do not know.

Those we leave behind and those who go before us

are more numerous than the dewdrops

that rest briefly beneath the trees and on their leaf tips.

We may have radiant faces in the morning,

but in the evening be no more than white bones.

With the coming of the wind of impermanence,

both eyes are instantly closed,

and when a single breath is forever stilled,

the radiant face is drained of life,

and its vibrant glow is lost.


Although family and relatives may gather

and grieve broken-heartedly, it is to no avail.

As there is nothing else to be done,

the once-familiar form is taken to an outlying field,

and when it has vanished with the midnight smoke,

nothing is left but white bones.

This is indeed indescribably sad.

—Rennyo Shonin


One response

  1. It is indeed abysmally sad for those who as yet have not “seen” the pattern of infinity and how all of us are in it. There is no end to the path we’re on, but time and again, the path demands a sharp turn, opening up new a direction that no one else can follow. Earthians call that death; we call it freedom. That freedom is only achieved when the entity has achieved the state of total detachment. I.e., “I” am already dead to most people – I know this but they cannot perceive the truth of it because they are still attached to “me” or some aspects of “me” that they claim for themselves. But I am not those claims.

    August 6, 2016 at 11:09 am

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s