Pausing from pelting across the inner oceans
that pure white hound of legend with the one red ear
noses me in a friendly way
I stroke his lean head - he does not bark, but even so
there is a speaking, large and assertive on the shore
this yell of existence demands acknowledgement

I taught somewhat to my selves:
“It's good to keep your feet in the fire
and your head in the snow”
and the fire is in the dark deep
and the snow on Vairocana's peak
where the Cool Cave is, the air bright
and the light is breathable also

and the Body of Truth moves
through all the worlds at once

outgrowing all spires and dungeons
growing not just tall enough to breathe in heaven
growing tall enough to walk in hell
and still able to admire the view
endless
endless