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Writer's picturehamid ebadi

the pathless one in you



on the anatolian plateau, september 2018

from my travels to where and nowhere

.

autrement dit

the point of the journey is in the travel

.

travels are pointless

.

they have no start and no end they take us nowhere

.

who is the traveler

.

where is she

.

travels that take us nowhere and to nowhere

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nowhere is a grand palace it is our home

.

its walls are made of air thin air

.

its doors are passageways of winds

.

its roof is the sky

.

where is this

.

where are we

.

we keep traveling in need of proof as we are that a road we do have

.

having a road are wayfarers

.

being wayfarers exist

.

wayfarer beware

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the path that can be trodden upon is not the true path

.

the ancients had a glimpse of this

.

to be pathless is to be beyond desire

.

desire too is pathless pathless has no end

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in desire alone are we free from desire

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not freed from desire for nothing binds

.

a desire that is free

.

nothing binds

.

just desire free

.

nothing binds they call it nirvana

.

it is nameless

.

abide it cannot

.

spirit they call it

abide it cannot

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