What we look for beyond seeing and call unseen,
Listen for beyond hearing and call unheard,
Grasp for beyond reaching and call withheld
Merge beyond understanding in a oneness,
Which does not merely rise and give light,
Does not merely set and leave darkness,
But forever sends forth a succession of living things
As mysterious as the unbegotten existence
To which it will return.
This is why people call them empty phenomena,
Meaningless images, a mirage with no face to meet,
No back to follow.
Yet one who is anciently aware of existence
Is master of every moment,
Feels no break since time beyond time
In the way life flows.