You ask why I make my home in the
mountain forest,
and I smile, and am silent,
and even my soul remains quiet:
it lives in the other world
which no one owns.
The peach trees blossom.
The water flows.
I felt first of all joyous. I felt that which joy is made of, and I realized that Joy itself must have been the impelling force, that which was before we were there, and that somehow Joy was in every part of our making. When the world was an ooze without any shape or direction, there must have been Joy reaching out and expressing itself everywhere.