What do you want in the woods, my boy, like a bird[1] exposed to the rain? Monsoons refresh you, for seclusion is for those in jhana. As the monsoon wind drives the clouds in the rainy season, so thoughts concerned with seclusion impel me. * * * A black crow making its home in a charnel ground inspires within me mindfulness in — based on dispassion for — the body.[2] * * * One whom others don't guard, who doesn't guard others: He is a monk who lies down in ease, unconcerned with sensual passions. * * * With clear waters & massive boulders, frequented by monkeys & deer, covered with moss & water weeds: those rocky crags refresh me. * * * I've lived in wildernesses, canyons, & caves, isolated dwellings frequented by predator & prey, but never have I known an ignoble, aversive resolve: "May these beings be destroyed, be slaughtered, fall into pain." * * * The Teacher has been served by me; the Awakened One's bidding, done; the heavy load, laid down; the guide to becoming,[3] uprooted. And the goal for which I went forth from home life into homelessness I've reached: the end of all fetters. I don't delight in death, don't delight in living. I await my time like a worker his wage. I don't delight in death, don't delight in living. I await my time mindful, alert.