The Zen garden of life
that lies before me
elliptically spirals out
in labyrinthine ripples
of cobalt-blue gravel galaxies
across the oceanic principle
of tar-black soot that
masks itself as the cosmos, but
is really the one true Reality.

The invisible, eternal, and
immoveable Ground.

Animating, destroying, and
resuscitating the spiritual essences
and material bodies
of all things
dreamed into and out of
the drama of Creation
since before the dizzying fall
of Being
into the illusion of Becoming.

Shaped by the sculptor’s hands
of redeeming Time.