From 術心悟 by goshinarts
The moth is drawn to the flame and dies. It never knows the vast freedom of the sky. The crow feasts on dead rats and the garbage by the curb. It knows not the taste of fresh spring water or the myriad of nature`s abundance.
How many people, a slave to their desires (rokkon, six senses), fly to the flame? In search of positions of honor or prestige they beg at the table for scraps. Throw away yourself, purify your senses, leave your begging bowl behind and know that you are the king! Verses tomorrow`s fame and fortune, I rise my sake cup to you today!
Paul
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