On the Passing of My Father (4)

Part 4

The Master

“The pups he called Rango and Ocho moaned restless beneath his seat. They knew their Master left the room, but they didn’t see him leave on his feet. These were the pictures running through my mind the night my father died. So I asked my friend Siddhartha because he could read my sighs. He said, “My dear son, this is the transitory nature of life. This is what the Master wanted you to see. The rose blooms and the rose dies. Be glad you are a witness to this decay and strife. It is the Alpha and the Omega. The sun and the moon. The beginning and the end of life. One side is sharp, and one side is dull, but both encompass the nature of a knife. Many are the stars, one is the sun, but both silk screen the sky. The nightingale trills by day, but the Owl hunts by night. There is no good or bad you see, because both drink from the same vine. The hunter hunts and the birds sing within a small spectrum of time. It is the Yin and the Yang I am trying to show you, but the whole circle best explains his life.” I replied, I see my life in his death and my death in his life. This was the meaning Christ was explaining when he died at the spike. “It is Samsara and Nirvana inverted twice. Your father’s death is your death, a piece of you has died.”

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