That shadow in the guest’s cup never was a snake. How clear, in a dream, the three worlds are. When you wake, all is empty, all the myriad worlds are none.
The ogre outside shoves the door,
The ogre inside holds it fast.
Dripping sweat from head to tail
Battling for their very lives,
They keep it up throughout the night
Until at last when the dawn appears
Their laughter fills the early light –
They were friends from the first.
– by Hakuin