Looked at but never seen,
it takes the name invisible.
Listened to but never heard,
it takes the name ethereal.
Held tight but never felt,
it takes the name gossamer.
You can’t unravel these three
blurred so utterly they’ve become one,
rising without radiance
and setting without darkness,
braided together beyond name, woven
back always and forever into nothing:
this is called formless form
or nothing’s image,
called spectral confusion,
something you meet without seeing a front
and follow without seeing a back.
Abiding in the ancient Way
to master what has now come to be
and fathom its ancient source:
this is called thread of the Way.