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joy is such, the explosion is such, that one is simply overflowing with it. Yoka cannot do anything about it, he is utterly helpless just as the rose bush is utterly helpless. In fact, the rose bush is not doing anything, Yoka is not doing anything; he is as much a witness to his song as you are. He may himself be feeling a little puzzled why this song goes on and on and on. 'I have said it, I have said it many times.' But what to do if the song continues? If it is coming from the very source of existence Yoka cannot prevent it.
And this is one of the most significant things to be understood, otherwise you will misunderstand all the Buddhas. Gautam the Buddha has been misunderstood because for forty years he was continuously saying the same thing. Why? He could have said it in very few words -- those words can be written on a postcard. But you have missed the point, you have not seen the sheer joy of sharing, of just singing it for its own sake.
Remember, this is a song -- The Song of Enlightenment. It is flowing through Yoka. Yoka is just a vehicle, a passage, a hollow bamboo; existence itself is singing through him. He cannot do anything this way or that; there is no point in criticizing poor Yoka.
Once a man came to J. Krishnamurti and asked 'Why do you go on talking and at the same time you go on saying that it cannot be said?' And he said 'Ask the rose, ask the trees why they go on blooming.'
There is no 'why' to it, there is nobody doing it. The doer has disappeared, hence the song has become possible. Yoka is no more. Yoka and the song cannot both exist together; if Yoka exists then the song cannot exist. The song can exist only when the first condition has been fulfilled: that Yoka has disappeared. When he is no more there, when he is no more obstructing the passage, when he is absolutely empty, only then can God take possession of him.
Zen people don't use the word 'God', they use the word 'Buddha-nature'. But it is the same; one is possessed. The song has to be sung, the dance has to be danced. It is not your dance, it is not my dance, it is nobody's dance... existence itself is dancing.
Yoka Daishi was one of
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