Life is like heady wine.
Everyone reads the label on the bottle. Hardly anyone tastes the wine.
Buddha once pointed to a flower and asked each of his disciples to say something about it.
One pronounced a lecture.
Another a poem.
Yet another a parable.
Each outdid the other in depth and erudition.
Mahakashyap smiled and held his tongue. (Only he had seen the flower.)
If I could only taste a bird, a flower,
a human face!
But, alas, I have no time.
My energy is spent deciphering the label.
(h/t Anthony DeMello)