This has no time.
This has no place.
This has no words.
This has no characteristics at all.
Anything that comes into this, dissolves and evaporates…
like a snowflake in a furnace, as Kakuan said of the eighth ox-herding picture.
This is reality. This is home. This is the truth.
People don’t generally seem to know this, though it can only always be here.
It’s not here, but it’s never gone.
This connects to nothing else.
~ Henry Shukman