About 7:30 p.m.

These are like slides
Picture frames in my mind

In the morning
Sitting in the car

The birds fly
From tree to tree

Stay with the ancient Tao

Watchful, like men crossing a winter stream
Alert, like men aware of danger
Courteous, like visiting guests
Yielding, like ice about to melt
Simple, like uncarved blocks of wood

Oh men of Tao
The ancient way is not lost
It is not lost