Perceiving the Ox – Part III

I hear the song of the nightingale.
The sun is warm, the wind is mild, willows are green along the shore,
Here no bull can hide!
What artist can draw that massive head, those majestic horns?

When one hears the voice, one can sense its source.

As soon as the six senses merge, the gate is entered. Wherever one enters one sees the head of the bull!
This unity is like salt in water, like color in dyestuff.
The slightest thing is not apart from self.

4. Catching the bull – Part IV

I seize him with a terrific struggle.
His great will and power are inexhaustible.
He charges to the high plateau far above the cloud-mists, Or in an impenetrable ravine he stands.


He dwelt in the forest a long time, but I caught him today!
Infatuation for scenery interferes with his direction.
Longing for sweeter grass, he wanders away.
His mind still is stubborn and unbridled.
If I wish him to submit, I must raise my whip.

LET YOUR MINDFLOW…