The percussionists

are counting, they are alert --


to the right moment.

The glassy waters are chillier today;
the contagion of reds, golds, and browns
has spread from within, and the ancient ones
experience the slow ecstasy of death.
Winds of a harvest moon slow on the forest murk,
and a tide below the surface will become
a tsunami against an invincible cliff.
Release thyself to the flow
of eternity in infinity
and you will be reborn
by yourself and for yourself,
one with reality in ten dimensions.

I have tossed around the white seas all night
Waiting for sleep to pull me beneath the waves
My mind struggled but my body was limp
Wu wei: action through inaction
What shall I decide to do?
I decide not to decide
In the morning, golden cucumber skies greet me
My mind lies down and my body rises

Set your bundle down
Satori in an instant
Pick your bundle up

The shade of the tree
Kills the acorn at its base —
What's an injustice?

Man sits with himself
Flower falls under his shade
Reminds him — look up

When the sun rises
It calls not for attention
But it sure does shine!

The great orator
With open ears I listen
For the wind speaks not

Little thistledown
As anxious as you and I
But never ill-judged