round midnight
we take our zafus
from the meditation hall
and go out onto the verandah
for night sitting

five of us in a line
overlooking
an immaculately raked
gravel garden
backed by tall cedars

we sit in zazen
and breathe in
and out
the cold
night air

I see the silhouette
of the temple gate
against the starlit sky
the shadow of the eaves
on the white sand

the priest today
talked about non-duality
no separation
but I hear you out there
by the willow weeping