How Can There Be a Way to Have It All, to Betray Neither Buddha nor You?

That day, with my eyes closed amid the incense smoke in the scripture hall, I suddenly heard you chanting sacred words. That month, I turned every prayer wheel, not to seek salvation, but only to touch your fingertips. That year, I prostrated myself along the mountain path, not to pay homage, but only to feel your warmth. That lifetime, I journeyed around mountains, rivers, and pagodas, not for reincarnation, but only to meet you along the way. One night, overcome by emotion, I wrote this short reflection. Theme: