And who is this aliveness

I am.

Self-contained heat and passion
I am like the ember in the fire pit
End of the day, heard so much
Took it all in and gave heat back.

Before becoming ashes again; one with earth


Seed.

Self contained wisdom and beauty
Then came the sun and the rain
And the dark soil softened my skin
And I burst forth a white crocus

Too soon picked by a child; happy to be chosen.

Song.

A woman wrapped her arms about a tree
and sang me all of once
I was released and returned to heaven
by way of the wind

What more could I ask for?

Once upon a time, I, Chuang Chou, dreamt I was a butterfly, fluttering hither and thither, to all intents and purposes a butterfly. I was conscious only of my happiness as a butterfly, unaware that I was Chou. Soon I awaked, and there I was, veritably myself again. Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly, dreaming I am a man.

Chuang Tsu