By Sam Yau
The river of Tao flows into eternity.
Embraces all things.
Nourishes all lives.
Permeates all high and low spaces.
Deep or shallow, calm or turbulent,
its meandering is effortless.
The clouds of Tao have shapeshifted for eons.
Against the blue-sky canvas, they morph—
a towering cathedral, a fire-breathing dragon,
a giant flying Pterosaurs, a swirling UFO.
They arrive unannounced and depart without a trace.
Their whimsical creative explosion is effortless.
The sage of Tao stays in inner silence:
plain, simple, humble.
She is innately kind.
She speaks volumes with few words,
accomplishes much without striving.
Her strength comes from her softness,
her compassion from her unity with all.
Accepting the ebb and flow of life,
content with inner peace,
seeking no external glory,
her life is effortless.
Tao cannot be named or spoken.
It precedes Heaven and Earth.
It is the Mother of all things,
the Formless that manifests all forms,
the Void that outpours like an inexhaustible well,
the Stillness that springs into spontaneous right actions.
It can be glimpsed by observing Nature.
Tao is our true nature to be cultivated.
At one with Tao, our life becomes effortless,
like the river and the clouds.