this is the life...oh, reading
daylong and in candlelight
and perusing scrolls and poems and the Classics
and the Analects,
it tires one...but this, sitting in the veranda
and with fresh air
and the gentle breeze and one’s mind light and easy...
and contemplating a rose
or seeing the green of a leaf...
the mind cleared of ideas and vague abstractions
and the weight of words and persuasion,
O this is the life...
the mind sits still now
in itself
the being in
the quiet of an evening
the satisfaction of solitude
in an emptiness, a presence
beyond books, thoughts and patterns
this is the life, this is the moment...