Ubbiri

"'Jiva, my daughter,' you cry in the woods. Come to your senses, Ubbiri. 84,000 all named Jiva have been burned in that charnel ground. For which of them do you grieve?" Pulling out — completely out — the arrow so hard to see, embedded in my heart, he expelled from me — overcome with grief — the grief over my daughter. Today — with arrow removed, without hunger, entirely Unbound — to the Buddha, Dhamma, & Sangha I go, for refuge to the Sage.