11 June 1963 Is it too much for people to live with one heart beneath the sky? You see, the clouds refuse to rain down upon me. I can hear nothing but the faint rustle of the flames, the flag of five colors. I can hear my heart. I want the same as anyone. I am no different. Assurance of the quiet, of the faint happiness. I know my brothers and sisters encircle me. They are not dancing. Their legs are being broken. I have been made for the lotus, become the lotus. And you look upon me, eyes held as I am held—to this earth, this government, but only for a little while. I look up at the sky and see a vision of the Buddha. He is weeping. (Originally appeared in DASH, issue 11)