A river. Calm, serene and still. Always living in this moment. It takes people from one place to another but it goes nowhere. People sail across it to reach somewhere but it flows not to go anywhere but to be here and now. Gusts of wind blowing over it cause waves on it but it has no form. Fishermen get home in the evening sailing on it but there’s no home for the river except the river itself. Nowhere to go, nothing to do. Just flowing in this moment. Being here and now. It reflects the sun setting this moment but it does not gather any memories of the sun that rose this morning. Neither does it dream about the unborn stars of night. Corpses are set afloat on it so that their souls can go to heaven but the river does not die, nor does it hanker after heaven because the very state of flowing is heaven for it. People meet by the river, create memories by the river, make promises by the river and break or keep them. People part by the river. But the river parts from nobody, neither does it meet anybody, nor does it make, keep or break promise.  A river! A miracle! A great teacher!