Written by Shawn Roske
Friday, 28 October 2011 01:19
Fortune in this place where everything happens becomes a fickle thing,
where the appearance of gain or loss remains appearance,
and here we must pay for apparent advantages later on—
this Beloved told me.
Maybe this good thing is good,
maybe this bad thing is bad,
for happiness derives of balance in the happening—
be happy my dear,
for fortune is always perfect.
Take the big view,
see how luck is never random,
see how grace be different from mysterious joss,
and my Beloved blesses with grace—
the fortune of the lover.