Compassion like a tiger would leap
A subtle and sudden bloom
A rash
A slow rush
Kannon s action is fueled
By the wounds and scars

Kannon gives a tongue to sky and sentient beings
She-he gives arms to the invisible
Ears to songs and words themselves
Kannon appears unoticed
Ordinary miracles
Sweat, laughs, grease,
Trafic, busy buses, lights and shadows
Kannon is sometimes an old mad woman
sometimes wrapped in the shape of a child
in a doctor, a caretaker, a policeman, a nobody
Kannon is flesh and blood of compassion

when you give this self to zazen
it becomes you
but it comes unoticed
you cannot see it
cannot hear it
can't even touch it
only once it's gone
only then