• The roots of the oak tree
    Flow through my veins,
    Acorns germinate in
    My mind.

    The solid trunk of my body
    Sways in the breeze,
    The leaf of my hand
    Glistens as the rain pours.

    The whole universe was
    Remade at my birth,
    And yet, nobody knows
    Where I came from.

    I was born with the
    Karma of everything,
    A Miracle, a Buddha,
    A tree, a Man.