In Shobogenzo Udonge, Dogen writes something like this:
Twirling, dynamic and playful twirling of the Wheel
Toying with a flower of Vulture Peak
Buddha turns and twirls reality as is
From the most distant galaxy
To the very color of your eyes.
Twisted twirling vines
Treasure trail to tramp
One, two, three, four
Flowers don't make Spring
Spring cannot be painted
But risen
But in being
It soaks the bones with
Subtle fragrance
It cannot
Even be seen
Whirling away
As ourselves
Three pai
Taigu
This being so, because the World-honored Gautama is now put- ting his body into flowers and has shrouded his body in space, we call being able to grasp nostrils, and call having grasped space, “the twirling of flowers.” Twirling flowers are twirled by eyes, twirled by mind-consciousness, twirled by nostrils, and twirled by flowers twirling. In general, the mountains, rivers, and the earth; the sun and moon, the wind and rain; people, ani- mals, grass, and trees—the miscellaneous things of the present displaying themselves here and there—are just the twirling of the uḍumbara flower. Living-and-dying and going-and-coming are also a miscellany of flowers and the brightness of flowers. Our learning in practice like this in the present is the continuing process of twirling flowers.
Toying with a flower of Vulture Peak
Buddha turns and twirls reality as is
From the most distant galaxy
To the very color of your eyes.
Twisted twirling vines
Treasure trail to tramp
One, two, three, four
Flowers don't make Spring
Spring cannot be painted
But risen
But in being
It soaks the bones with
Subtle fragrance
It cannot
Even be seen
Whirling away
As ourselves
Three pai
Taigu
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