We fall in Zazen,
The same way we fall asleep
One stage after the other,
We fall through the floors of consciousness,
One after the other, they dissolve.
Withdrawing towards expansion,
Peak of inspiration
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Notes & Silence 
Hmm…
Expansion.
Entering the boundless where nothing and the infinite become one.
I was musing on this whilst walking this morning. How to conceptualise the undefined.
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poetry is the finger, here.
to point to the undefinable Moon.
Rhetorical arguments, dialogues, even talks on universal wisdom eventually lose their appeal,
There comes a point when, pushed forward, all these so-called spiritual gear becomes what drives us away from wisdom.
Silence.
A word, here and there, at best,
Like some deep sea organism coming back on the surface once in a while,
Without anyone giving too much attention,
While recognizing words are words. Nothing more.
Everyone is following the same line, everyone is placed somewhere along the asymptote curve to Silence
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Falling into zazen is like falling into a dream full of passing clouds.
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