Glass

The tao is a clear glass, giving shape and taking color from whatever is inside, but not changing.
Tao is the space where everything happens, the clay from which everything springs.
Tao gives them form.

It lets them move in a direction.
It makes them visible.
It moves through them.

No one sees it, though it is always there.
Tao is outside of time.


So odd to interpret when I have no clue about the original language, and where scholars and poets have been so often. Yet, I still feel this is a valid exercise.