Friday, June 29, 2007

Zen Poem

The myriad of differences resolved by sitting, all doors opened.
In this still place I follow my nature, be what it may.
From the one hundred flowers I wander freely,
the soaring cliff-my hall of meditation
(with the moon emerged, my mind is motionless).
Sitting on this frosty seat, no further dream of fame.
The forest, the mountain follow their ancient ways,
and through the long spring day, not even the shadow of a bird.

Reizan (d. 1411)

1 comment:

Margaret said...

"...I follow my nature be what it may ...."
somehow I find this space more readily when I am walking the crystal creek with a canine companion, as I was earlier this morning ---Oh to find it so readily in the midst of traffic, or on the job- yet it is always available, so who is this who shuns it?
Thanks for this inspiring post, Sam. Peace, Margaret