Your hand opens and closes, opens and closes. If it were always a fist or always stretched open, you would be paralysed. Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expanding, the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated as birds’ wings.
The Gods gave a microbe a drop of water, and in it he lived. They gave an ant a half acre of land, and he prospered. They gave a tiger the forest and he formed an empire and became an emperor. They gave man the Universe and all the knowledge therein. He entered of his own free will the dungeon of Dogma, shut his mind to truth and slew and starved his brothers.
I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will.
Not knowing the consequence of good and evil karmas, he is afflicted and hurt. Nevertheless, he, due to his egotism, piles up karmas and undergoes births and deaths again and again.
