The Potter...

...and the Pot

This body, I see is like a pot. Inside it is the breath, just as if filled with water. The breath holds the subtler mind. A mind that knows no meditation is like a pot that dances and rolls about the place, spilling out all its precious energy in any direction it pleases, but misses yet another great opportunity to know the essence of being.
But with silence, the mind reaches the brim of the pot, spills out in bliss. At the end of it all, when existence gives the pot a slight tilt, it joyfully flows out to become one with the very thing that contained it.
The remnants of the pot goes down, down, down to touch the rock bottom. It emerges again with another form and shape, once again the same energy to hold. Oh! this never-ending game of the potter and the pot!