The water of the valley stream is always flowing. It races on, not pausing for even an instant. Its sound, to me, is the sound of time.
The water of time glistens on the riverbed of the universe. Though theirs is a much slower flow, stones, trees, houses and towns are flowing too. Human beings and all things that have life flow. Thought and culture, to, flow. That all these appear to be unchanging is but illusion.
We make every effort to keep things as they are, because human beings, alone, lament transience. Yet no matter how we grieve or protest, there is no way to impede the flow of anything. If we but see things as they are and flow with them, we may find enjoyment in transience. Because human life is transient, all manner of figures are woven into its fabric.
--from Zen Seeds, Reflections of a Female Priest, by Shundo Aoyama