Soon we will breathe in 2011 and breathe out 2012. So small is the hinge on which the world hangs.
It's easy to poo-poo the whole New Year business. "It's just another tick on the clock," one might say. But get this:
On so small a hinge I switched from umbilical cord to lung.
On so small a hinge I spoke my first word.
On so small a hinge I became a father.
On so small a hinge I ordained.
On so small a hinge I will die.
So yeah, I get making some kind of deal about one year ending and another beginning. Between that in breath and that out breath all manner of things are possible. In that silence between the in breath and the out breath whole worlds are renewed. In that most barely perceptible of pauses all beings are at ease.
What's not remarkable in that?
It's easy to poo-poo the whole New Year business. "It's just another tick on the clock," one might say. But get this:
On so small a hinge I switched from umbilical cord to lung.
On so small a hinge I spoke my first word.
On so small a hinge I became a father.
On so small a hinge I ordained.
On so small a hinge I will die.
So yeah, I get making some kind of deal about one year ending and another beginning. Between that in breath and that out breath all manner of things are possible. In that silence between the in breath and the out breath whole worlds are renewed. In that most barely perceptible of pauses all beings are at ease.
What's not remarkable in that?
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