STAGE 6
RIDING THE OX HOME
Introduction
The battle is already over, gain and loss are also empty.
He sings a woodcutter's rustic song and whistles a child's tune.
Straddled on the Ox's back, he gazes at the clouds.
Though you call him he will not return;
though you try to catch and hold him, he will not stay.
Verse
You mount the ox and want to make your way slowly home.
A barbarian plays the flute in the red glow of sunset.
Each measure, each tune is filled with ineffable tones.
Among true intimates, what need is there for words?
So Daiho:RIDING THE OX HOME
Introduction
The battle is already over, gain and loss are also empty.
He sings a woodcutter's rustic song and whistles a child's tune.
Straddled on the Ox's back, he gazes at the clouds.
Though you call him he will not return;
though you try to catch and hold him, he will not stay.
Verse
You mount the ox and want to make your way slowly home.
A barbarian plays the flute in the red glow of sunset.
Each measure, each tune is filled with ineffable tones.
Among true intimates, what need is there for words?
Mind comes and goes like the clouds in the sky, as do all things, when we attain oneness with them all, in whatever form, we are on the Ox. We are pure joy. We have attained the realm of emptiness and see ouirselves as having arrived. All things are meaningless. All things are fleeting. Since we cannot kepep anything, there is no need to value anything. Then 'among true intimates, what need is there for words?' The sea talks to itself in deep silence.
Still, we have not attained the deep abiding. We see bliss as something separate from pain. When the sea is the sea that is not all there is: waves are there also.
A magician flips the coin and in the sound of the spin we are two.
We see good as something different from evil. Vietnam. Killing. Wal-Mart. Shopping. Eating. Shitting. Hugging. Loving. Not different, yet different. We do not understand the coin.
A deep bow
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