By The Horns Of Zen

You have to be a hothead to take spirituality by the horns of Zen.
This animal of spirituality is the only companion for the desperate, the adventurer,
For the one that all concessions had slowly begun to kill.
These night crossings, with a pair of open eyes for only tools,

These freezing rides,
You must have gone crazy, gone sad, not to get out of it,
To keep your nose down in the neck of the buffalo,
So as not to raise your head to the stars,
To continue walking the path of aridity.

What man has learned along the way,
This is what leads to the cabin.
The path for the path makes you sad or mad.
You cannot inhabit the way

A thousand times you can take it,
To empty the excess of your heart,
Cross the forests, the deserts again
But one day, you have to enter it.

©FJ Fev 2023
Participations -Pratique

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