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Earth’s summer breath embraces the coolness of the pre-dawn atmosphere and for an hour or so reveals itself as soft mistiness. Through the big trees camellia blooms are showing pinkly; there’s a tree covered in huge scarlet trumpets and another clothed in a purple so intense it could explode:

 

I sees but does not watch

I hears but does not listen

I feels but does not touch

I tastes but does not eat

I smells but does not inhale

I is freedom without the ‘from’

I perceives but doesn’t conceptualize

I has never been born and can never die

I is the still, silent, ubiquitous point at the centre of the spinning world

I has never believed one single belief nor thought one thought nor made one choice

I is amoral, innocent, unconditioned intelligence which has nothing to do with intellect

I is joy without cause

I is love without object

I is what one is
and what all sentient beings are
bottom-line,
fundamental,
I-ness
I-ing

 

(as the perfect purple of a Jacaranda bloom)

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Image source

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