Real people are simple.

Real power flows through them.

They hardly notice.

Free of the fear of death,

they remember how to live.

Like the sunset in the west,

and the sunrise in the east,

real people die

and are reborn daily.

Appreciating bright flowers,

yet always tending to the dark roots,

life becomes simple, yet full of possibility.

Always surrendering to what is


one continually


all that appears divided.