There are mocking birds in the holly trees
jabbering as they do.
Mocking Buddha and the Dalai Lama, saying,
"You have anxiety"
"You are living in the future"
"You have regret"
"you are living in the past"
And I say in return
"Thank you, little brother.
Thank you, little sister."
Then there is nothing.
Only the holly tree with its waxy green leaves,
those bright red berries,
the mocking birds,
the wind, the sun,
and me.
