Ching Ch'ing, a Chinese Ch'an master, asked a monk:
-What is the sound outside?
The monk answered:
-That is the sound of rain.
The master said:
-Sentient beings are upside down, they lose themselves in pursuit of things.
Looked at but cannot be seen - it is beneath form;
Listened to but cannot be heard - it is beneath sound;
Held but cannot be touched - it is beneath feeling;
These depthless things evade definition,
And blend into a single mystery.
In its rising there is no light,
In its falling there is no darkness,
A continuous thread beyond description,
Lining what can not occur;
Its form formless,
Its image nothing,
Its name silence;
Follow it, it has no back,
Meet it, it has no face.