The morning stillness

The morning stillness cannot be broken.

As the wind blows through the trees, it arises in this, it dies in this.

This is where everything begins. Yet nothing begins here.

This is where everything ends. Yet nothing ends here.

This is the Silent Stillness. 

The Unborn, Undying, Eternal.

This is what speaks, when the Master speaks.

Still.

Unmoving.

All pervading.

Let us not even call this Emptiness.

Nor stillness.

Formless, nameless, it simply is.

It is Truth.

This is not a koan.

It is your own, True Self.