A Dream of Bridges I dreamed I met Xuan Zang, a stranger’s face – so I asked my friend, the Chinese Lady who reads books in English, her eyes reflecting centuries of stories. He crossed deserts, mountains, and shadows - a heavy heart, full of questions. From Nalanda to Chang’an he carried the Dharma – alive in us still. I asked myself: ‘Why did he do this?’ Not for glory – to bridge the world. A path – endless, like the sky.