In the 3rd Century, Taoist magicians & Buddhist "logicians of emptiness" began a debate that went on for several hundred years on whose way was the true path to enlightenment.
In the 7th Century, the scholar Hsüan Tsang made an arduous trip to India, returning to China decades later "with 657 sūtras, images, mandalas, / and fifty relics—." With translations of the founder's original sermons, the Buddhists finally won the day.
Sacred stories trace all
the way down to when shadowy tales of supernatural beings began to emerge
from fires flickering near the entrance to perhaps initiatory caves, silhouetting
crawl spaces that opened to large
picture galleries several hours after drinking the brew. I found
myself awake in a world literally beyond
I am living in Pablo Picasso’s villa. He is the deceased landlord who confused his property with himself. If a faucet sprung a leak, it was because the tenant had wounded him, and it was not water but his blood that was dripping. [On the day he had heart surgery, the freezer finally defrosted.] Then I see a small stain on the diaphanous drapes near where I am dreaming.
Today I'm wondering
why moon goddess Artemis was recruited to play the hunter, instead of
Mars. Don't anthropologists write that in most primal tribes the hunting
was done by men?