life worms gravitate and distance themselves from each other in
shifting and transforming in space; among the drifting illusions,
the myriad things are nurtured in death...
Caves, tree rings, the terrain of the primordial cosmos, the division
of microscopic cells...
all traces of life worn into the fabric of time. Substance is emptiness,
and emptiness is substance; that which has disappeared continues
to multiply, that which has died continues to return...
Outside of the bounds of perception, outside of the cycle of life,
Chuang Tzu's butterfly flits about in the mirror images of
Kant's right and left hands.