We join spokes together in a wheel,
but it is the center hole
that makes the wagon move.
We shape clay into a pot,
but it is the emptiness inside
that holds whatever we want.
We hammer wood for a house, but it is the inner space
that makes it livable.
We work with being,
but non-being is what we use.
A short poem this week which offers much food for thought. It is ascribed to Lao Tsu, a Taoist sage, from the Tao Te Ching, translated by Stephen Mitchell.