No Fruit, No Seed

An old friend knocked on his door in a dream, and entering to sit by the edge of his bed where moonlight and nymph sang and danced, he asked, ‘What fruit and seed have you got to show for your way and path, your earth and field?

‘His calm eyes staring back, the hermit took a handful of breaths from his chest and offered his open hand, empty and bare.


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