The irreducible essence of life is distilled
in the pattering of rain on leaves,
from the evensong of birds at dusk,
through an elusive shadow of cloud over a mountain lake,
in the pinwheel, phosphorescent dust of the galaxies.
When we cleave to the essence, we stop hurting each other;
we are humbled by our mute insignificance.
The Essence is sufficient if we let it be.