The Guest House
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
When you are with everyone but me,
|When you are with everyone but me,|
you're with no one.
When you are with no one but me,
you're with everyone.
Instead of being so bound up with everyone,
When you become that many, you're nothing. Empty.