Following the Clues in the Tree

Beyond the Ninth Heaven, I gaze upon a dreamscape. A crane stands atop a grave, with nowhere to go.

Beneath the bodhi tree, I mutter in delirium; on the road between life and death, I grieve.

In my youth, they scraped my bones to draw out poison, only to drain my marrow and hammer iron spikes into me.

A wooden sword was abandoned in the barren hills; rags were wound around my severed arm.