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When these pleasant objects cannot satisfy the enjoyer absorbed in enjoying them, then here...
a yogi is to be invited,
is to be charmed to come out!
Even the twittering of the swarm of birds
leaving their nests,
coming out and beholding the elegance of the forest,
reaching as orderly waves
could not touch the ears of the potter
in the absence of desire,
and merged in the void; that is,
the ears of the potter are not recipient of the twittering worth hearing.
In this particular situation, even being distant the dustless sun himself spreading his thousand hands gently rubs the potter's eyelids closed like lotus petals, with tender fingers of rays.
In this rubbing
the potter experiences
the tender loving touch of the mother's affection.
Silent Soil:: 265
