The things that are about to be
and those that never happen...
Nothing vanishes for
nothing appears
Laugh until you can
(because there is no laughter)
In the middle of the lake
there is no lake at all
no world
memory or
thought

(Me is whole in this place
though in this place there is no me
there is no such place in me)

Master meditates at a crack of dawn
while leaves fall from careless trees
Winter is on its way sliding through
images of reflective time

When student comes he knows better
than to wake up his master’s thoughts
He would like to ask:
“Master! What is Zen? What it means to be alive?”

Instead, watching the horizon painting
the blue waves green
He sits next to his master
and starts contemplating with him