Cutting through the webs of self-clinging that humanity has tied itself in- and enter instead into awareness of the limitless field of spiritual energy, that awaits.

***

A quiet tale unfolds from a high Himalayan ridge,
Where prayer flags whisper secrets across a wind‑carved bridge.
A wanderer climbed upward with a heart both fierce and brave,
Seeking truth beyond the self’s stories, that he no longer craved.

The one’s woven webs of me and mine so tightly round his chest,
Each thread a fear, a hope, a claim he thought he must protect.
But the Dharma’s gentle thunder rolled through valleys deep and wide,
Calling him to loosen what he’d knotted up inside.

One night beneath a moon that shone like polished bone,
He met an old monk smiling as though he’d always known
The weight the wanderer carried, the ache behind his eyes—
The monk said, Cut the clinging, and the boundless will arise.

So the wanderer breathed softly, letting thoughts drift like snow,
Watching each one melt away in the warmth of letting go.
The webs he’d spun for ages shimmered once, then fell apart,
Revealing space unending at the very centre of his heart.

A limitless field of awareness opened clear and bright,
Not a blaze of revelation but a soft expanding light.
He saw the world as mirrors, each reflecting sky and stone,
And realised he’d never been separate or alone.

Now he walks the mountain pathways with a step both light and true,
Knowing every breath is spacious, every moment fresh and new.
His story isn’t finished, but he’s learned the sweetest part:
Freedom isn’t found by seeking—it awakens in the heart.