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In the waking moments,
Parts assemble into a being.
How does this being navigate currents?
Is this original nature you are seeing?

What is a True kind of being?
Are these words from weary old rhymes?
Tired from forcing happiness unclean.
Weary from stealing time.

A Tenderloin architect, this is mine.
Wood from trees burning in the breeze,
New seedlings gentrify the mind.
Bowing to Buddhas, aching knees.

Recognizing three karmas,
What are you building?
What is gentle awareness?
Neither true nor false, simply seeing.

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