A Buddhist Cat

My cat Dylan (who, when bad, I call Dyldo), has been jumping on the fridge lately. This is mildly justified as his stash of fresh, green, feathered mice lives on top of the fridge (secretly or so I thought). As he jumps, he knocks magnetic poetry on the floor. I've been picking up the pieces and putting together Dylan's poem. He is obviously a Naropa Writing Program student who, after dying, has reincarnated as my new cat. Here is his poem (so far):

And
road
were time
eternity

And now for my try. An Erinku (similar to a haiku, except for various fundamental differences):

while singing
(for c.d.)
I should not
sing