Prosaic

     Enlightenment is entanglement. Samsara is nirvana. This is how the hermit hooks big fish. This is the way of the toad. No missionaries to suit up here. No exquisite robes to dye. The beginning of spring may be grey. Peasants make fools of sages. Folks prefer hell scrolls and tabloid news. They gossip about themselves, duck punishments, observe rituals, and compete for happiness. They like what they like. They're animals. The end of the world may never come. The first day of winter may be green. The way of the toad is prosaic, visions wrapped in warts and all. Dreams without toxins are delusion. Nirvana serves samsara. Entanglement is enlightenment. This is the way of the toad.