The mountain berries I’d collected for the journey have all been eaten

There is nothing in my knapsack to sustain me

With nothing left but determination, I rope the ox

But the ox resists, the rope irritates his broad neck

He tears through the hills, knocking down everything in its way

With the strength and momentum of the ever-changing universe



I grip the rope tighter, but what hope do I have?

He charges, pinning me to the ground

Pressed beneath its heavy skull and long pointed horns

Then he turns to the rocky peak and disappears in the gathering clouds

Rope hanging down from a tethered cloud

I could walk away now, it would be less painful

But I, too, am stubborn

♉

Somewhere deep within I know I shouldn’t do this, but, oops, I just did…

Mountain streams don’t suddenly change direction, the sun won’t likely rise in the west.

The wonderful thing about the human mind is that it can change its course. But after lifetimes of running wild, it can sometimes seem impossible.

But a friend, and monk, once told me that just acquiring the intention to change immediately creates a huge shift in the momentum of our Karma.

Catching the Bull

With all my energy, I seize the ox.

His will is strong, and his power inexhaustible,

He cannot be easily tamed.

Sometimes he charges to the high plateau,

And there he stays, deep in the mist.