When All Falls Away
When all things fall away,
and no one remains,
I return to the breath.
The body remembers
what the heart forgets —
discipline,
silence,
the pulse between worlds.
The dragon coils within me,
its fire now water,
its motion the whisper of wind.
Each cell opens and closes —
a gate of Heaven,
a rhythm of the Way.
Even in my foolishness,
the form continues.
Even in shame,
the current flows.
Kung fu is my temple,
my sutra of motion.
In its stillness,
I vanish —
and am carried
into the endless flow.
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