Zen masters, patriarchs of yesteryear, when they felt the hour of death approaching, would enter zazen and welcome in the posture the echo of their last heartbeat,
Stand at the forefront of existence and still strive for authenticity, for transmission. Still Bathing in Joy
Neither a great master, nor a patriarch, nor even a simple monk,
I will ask, when the time comes, to sit zazen, not as a teacher or anything else, but as a last wish.
Notes & Silence 
May you get your wish. Eventually…
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