the first haiku written on the moon pointed to you on the earth.
you are only part of the picture but the picture is wholly you.
oh bliss! consciousness is playing with itself.
every activity in this world is just a pastime.
it's as if a single play was taken hostage by each word and so became six billion separate works.
like a landlubber crying land ho!
evolution is just consciousness making it up as it goes.
when you play this sutra backwards, it says 'you are unborn.'
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