the play goes on

lo friend
the earth does not cling
nor does the glorious tree
that sheds it's leaves in the
time of autumn
the sun knows not your
name and woes of the world
the ocean simply moves
within it's own nature
and the mountain rests
steady, unmoving
against the transient play
the call of the gull
comes from emptiness
and dissolves there again
the seasons are driven
by pure intelligence
the winds blow
the rains fall
the moon shines
the play goes on
whether mind is at
the center or not
the flow of life goes on
without ego
as it always has..