Had I missed this turn of the wheel,
what matter?
Someone else would have gone to war,
another might have written peace haikus,
many more could have done my work,
it is all simply chopping wood,
it is all no more than carrying water,
it is not mysterious,
the thing we call our life.
It is said that,
sitting under the boddhi tree,
Siddahartha Gautama saw,
not hundreds of figs on the ground,
but thirty-thousand past lives.
The boddhi itself requires
three thousand years to form its shape,
and humans have but a moment
to find meaning, even when they look.
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