01
The sound of the woodfish is low and the rhythm is clear - boom, boom, boom - and it's coming out of the temple with one blow, as if the clock was ticking.
My vision is scattered in the sound of woodfish, which don't sound monotonous, and there's some sort of an identifiable melody in order.
And We sat on a high platform in front of the right of the house, and a table made of marble, and ran forth on the side of the house. Sitting on it in the summer, it feels so cool. I've got a big door with an arch on the frame - it's also marble-sculpted, fine bamboo. The front is brand-new purple red and bright. The door was half open, and it was about to be seen in the depths behind it. I've been staring at the door for a long time, waiting for someone to come in.
Nobody.
Only the woodfish sound.
Everything's soft, no trace. In the middle court, it was only me, the door, the temple, the sound of the woodfish, and a white-skin pine tree. The pine trees are high and the canopy is very high, covering half the sky in the courtyard, and only a fraction of the temple and arches can be seen. The sun is full of eyes, spilling down from a very high place, falling in the wind, shattering, shaking, swinging.
02
I've been sitting there for a long time, and I'm losing my body. Suddenly, I felt something behind me. As soon as I returned unconsciously, my consciousness flew into the temple. It is a vast, dark place - in the middle of the Great Temple, sitting far away in a golden Buddha. Its body is strong, wide and high, and I can't see his head. It's just that the gold is so bright, it's all over the Buddha, it's like it's spreading sandy gold particles into the air.
My body is scattered in the air, turned into smoke on a fragrance - twisted, rotated, slowly drifting up. The smoke on several fragrances rises and gathers more and more... The smoke is all over the house. It and my senses are immersed - I am so big that every smoke is mine, scattered in front of the house, behind it, in the door, on the knees, on the pillars, on the chandeliers, on the light.
There is no wind, no peace, no air flow in space. The sound of the woodfish has suddenly weakened. There should be no monks. Where is the sound? I tried to find out where the carp was, but I couldn't concentrate. A smoke that brought me to the Buddha, its head was as big as a map, and its shape was soft. It's half-low, half-observed, wide, fat mouths up. I stopped quietly in front of its low eyelids and looked at it, and I knew it, even though it wasn't.
Its face is so clear, its five officials look good, and each line is so soft and golden. The more I look, the more I'm attracted to it, the radians of the mouth, the bends of the cheeks, the dents of the nose, as if they were all talking to me. It is a call calling to me.
"Come here, come here." The golden expression. The smokes carry me up, and I'm getting closer to Buddha. Do you want to go over there? Is there an unnamed struggle in my heart, go, or not?
Time is still. I stopped in front of the Buddha and didn't move.
Its face has remained the same, benevolent, mysterious and silent.
The smoke is gushing in my mind and going in all directions. I was driven by smoke, struggling. For a moment, we missed each other at the nearest distance.
Forget it.
03
The wind is coming.
Blow it on me. Blow me out of the temple.
The familiar picture returns to the eye, the sun, the white skin, the colours. The leaves were blown by the wind.
The smoke took me and stopped on the top of the hall. I've been on top for a long time. The sun is spilling down the leaves, the vertical light, through me in the fog.
The wind blows up gently, a little bit of the force, and it scatters me. It's a little painful, and my body is going to disappear like this - it's going to be scattered, it's going to be nothing. To become a smoke is to be free, light and free, and I try to concentrate on my consciousness and not to let it spread too quickly, but it doesn't listen to me.
I can only look at it, leave me, spread to every leaf, every sun, every line on the brick...
Gradually, the world is white.
"I'm watching."