The Perfect Sky

The kite was up, so up,
It stayed by itself,
Perfect sky, it knew,
And the flight was very simple

Was it there because it
thought so
Or did it know
Thinking, ok,
But when would you know it

Whatever I know,
am sure off
I have nothing to think for
No thoughts exists there.
What remains there is the
Doing.

Easy Flying,
The perfect sky,
The meditation simple,
It is the doing,
Do it and see how thoughts burn
in to being.