LAO TZU RETURNS FROM THE FRONTIER GATE
FOR AN ENCORE
The perfect stranger is like water,
Pure as the void in spite of pollution.
Flowing to accommodate circumstances,
He becomes your state of mind.
Divert him and he will surround you.
Flee from him: he is your looking glass.
Go through him and the world is turned
Inside out to reveal its nature.
He dances without moving,
And sings without a sound.
He participates in all things
As those things themselves.
Why is he preaching without speaking?
Why do his acts reveal the Way?
Why do his thoughts reverberate
In the hearts of all beings?
And why are his thoughts so nebulous,
Like clouds of uncreated light?
He is the perfect stranger,
And symbolized by water.
The point of no return is his goal,
For he vows the vow that is no vow
And minds the mind that is no mind.
Unknown to all, unknown to himself,
Unobtrusive virtue influencing
All waters to flow to their origin,
He is the perfect stranger:
His camouflage is what you wear.
