Center of all centers, core of cores, <br />almond self-enclosed, and growing sweet-- <br />all this universe, to the furthest stars <br />all beyond them, is your flesh, your fruit. <br /> <br />Now you feel how nothing clings to you; <br />your vast shell reaches into endless space, <br />and there the rich, thick fluids rise and flow. <br />Illuminated in your infinite peace, <br /> <br />a billion stars go spinning through the night, <br />blazing high above your head. <br />But in you is the presence that <br />will be, when all the stars are dead.<br /><br />Rainer Maria Rilke<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/buddha-in-glory/
