VIII. Pinning a Daisy to A Jacket

Pinning a daisy to a jacket, I set off anticipating an encounter where I can expound my dharma. This flower is sharper then any knife and has more range in its offensive then a gun or any other weapon you could carry. I have a small vision of being beat down and robbed of the many nothings I possess. Torn limb from limb in a flurry of lights and calmed face expression and holding up a single flower. Without it ever reacting to a single circumstance, my satori comes after all my parts are left unrecognizable. My Bodhisattva halo stretches across aeons that I can’t distinguish. Brilliant radiance. Suns of anarchy. No borders left within my body and no god to have my soul. Just a flower pinned to a jacket, laying empty. The only thing recognizable, as it lie bare, looted on the floor, and does it ring out non-violent?

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