WALKING by Robert Winson

I'm one man
with two jobs
coming and going

walking
in the field of breath

among myriad beings
I'll catch up on wisdom later

Where it is
that all the Buddhas come from

like a man
who often spoke your name
when speaking to you

Never coming in through the door
They don't come in that way

Breathing out fields of living beings
Breathing in tremendous bones

I'm not done
But I did everything I needed to do

Now
nothing to do, nowhere to go

I don't mind
being lost

here
where the mountains stand
on the water

Out of arising
coming & going

Knowing water
by drinking it