“A Man of Original Inactivity” ~ Ikkyū
A nothingness is where we come from, writes
A poet, and we go to nothing, then
Insists we’re like a bird, in that, in mead flights
Through Viking halls goes out the window, men
Not noticing. It flies from night to night,
From darkness into darkness. He concludes
That we are nothing, come from nothing, flight
From our vacuity, from feuds to feuds,
About our little nothings . . . and so why
Should we do anything at all unless
We’re simply blind and stupid? Shall we sigh
Because we’re flying through a drunken mess?
To fit in properly within this scene,
Do nothing. Then we all can be serene.
~ Phillip Whidden
by phillipw | Sep 20, 2024 | Uncategorized |