It is as I say it is, until it isn’t.
And so my life passes
like a dream of clouds in the sky.

A butcher chops
and birds chatter
I waited all my life for this.

Sometimes dreams still beckon
but the world soon returns to dust.
Alone nothing lives, alone nothing dies
emptiness realized, where else is there to go?

My indulgent loneliness,
ambushed this evening by some chirping crickets.
Chpp chpp

Cool sky today
A few clouds too.

Leaves and raindrops.
Autumn!

Each morning the same question,
the same sickly sweet knot in my tummy.

How long now?

Your sleeping breath on my skin
and then my eyes mirrored in yours.

These few words can only point to the love I feel
waking with you this morning.

People's world is too busy for a man like me.
I’m more accustomed to the rhythm
of the old oak tree.

Clouds become dragons
become clouds
become words.

What are the marks of a buddha?
None.
We are as good as stray dogs
lost and home all at once.

I left home to follow a dream
But find at night that I dream of home.

Dust in the wind;
tomorrow's dreams
- gone.

I’m really a funny chap;
I love this strange world,
but I’m lost here like a bird without legs.

Tick

           now

Tock

            this.

Crying until only emptiness reigns -
I feel gratitude now for Gautamas' hidden gate.

I am heavens fool
I go the way I will.

Great is the gain, deep the loss
- and somewhere in the middle is my treasure.

With heaven behind me
am I really so foolish?

My footprints are in the flowerbeds
but I never leave the house.

Birth, death and in-between
a beautiful dream.

I love you,
and if I forget to tell you today
it is only because I am lost for words.

Flowers turn
to meet the morning sun.
This is my religion.

The surface ripples
and the world is distorted

Keep splashing
and distortion is all you see.

So tender
Each kiss
says what a thousand words cannot.

Pine needles fall to the lake's surface.
The world ripples,
beginning again,
and again.

Waving pines
in the lake
I am lost in the reflections.

A mosquito
bites my foot
and I pass from one dream to the next.

All comes and all goes
and here I am
Alive and dead all at once
what a wonder
Heart in an empty sky.

Clouds mirrored in the canal
one light
two reflections.

Putting a shell to my ear
I listen to the ocean.
Activity becomes no mind
no mind becomes activity.

What need have we for temples of stone,
when we have the stars and sky?
All are equal under this roof...
the wind in the trees is union,
and you and I, love.

The love I feel
is the love you feel,
a single moon mirrored in many waters.

On the surface
waves come and go.
At this depth
not a sound.

Chasing always after the next thing
we miss the real life.
In the quiet glow of this moment
all is forever well

The cold and rains have come.
Summer is closing
and hearth-smoke richens the night air.

Wretched Gautama,
you warned me of this

nothing!

Pre-conceptual world
like a glassless window

They say they have become the ocean
but really these are fanciful thoughts.
I can now think of the ocean...
and see transient sunlight on the surface
and feel pebbles rolling in the wavebreak at my feet.

My heart is broken,
love spilt all over the place.
I want to gather some up for you,
will you hold out your hands?

I see
and I love,
yet the two dance so tightly
that there is only one.

Sunlit eyes
like autumn pools
We smile over a *** of jasmine tea.

I whittle my companions to zero without attention.
Only occasionally do I notice
when the shavings on the floor splinter my toes.

At the lakeside
thoughts and water
merge in tranquility.

A gentle breeze
and some chattering birds,
separate now only in words.

Spring is sweet,
but I wait for her to love me
the summer way that I love her now.

In discarding culture and abandoning time,
I have lost touch with today's tomorrow people.
Only ceaseless peace refunds this loss.

The original oorm; here a young man...
a fine pickle this is.
The Chan heroes retired to Dongyun,
but my heart yearns to live.

Pine trees delight my senses
more than I know how to say.

A cool breeze promises rain.
My old hut creaks with anticipation.

Sometimes sun, sometimes rain
Wind blows in the rushes
and I am so happy.

Rain hammers
and lightning paints the sky bright violet -
illuminating patterns in puddles.

Thrashed open again!
My heart is real.

No trust, no doubt,
no concern at all.

I open my mouth to sing
but have forgotten the words.
Snow on their heads
the mountains too have forgotten.
At least the butterflies remember how to dance.