The following is from a series of tweets by Jetsunma Ahkon Lhamo:
I went to the river. Once again dry, but for the tears in my eyes there was none for me to drink. I need to drink.
When water runs dry… We wait, the fish wait, the animals wait all of us wait. It cannot be found.
Later I saw the river again. Willows had grown, sucking up water. Since there was food for the Moose, I do not cry.
The Moose is so hungry, but the willows, they cry…will the water return by and by? The Raven sighs.
Once I brought three lotus to the river. Not one could stay. I cried, and walked away. Alone.
The scent lingers. The willows continue their thirsty way. Moose grows fat.
Someone must bring the rain. Soon we will all be gone. The feast of sweetness abandoned.
Here is a Lotus in my window. I pray the fragrance is pure.
Here is a candle shining. Here is a hope.
Soon I must bring a Lotus to the river with joy. But I do not know if it will float downstream. They often do.
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