Blind children in the dark
Within the whispers of the forest
As foliage falls on a place without sun
Where the white eyes gaze
Down the path there is a clearing
Where the yellowing grass lays down to rest
Beneath the flowers still living
To provide, in their dying, sustenance for the deer
The lake sounds carry in the distance
Holding the jolting caw of migrating geese
Who linger for a moment, watched by forest deer,
As they move along the grain patches toward the edge
I draw closer to the threshold, you know?
The one that separates us from them.
The entire journey was on foot to this place,
Of moss, more moss, and my footstep’s trace.
White clouds about the banks in a quiet state,
The growing grass has covered the fence’s gate.
Passing rain, the pine’s green color in course,
I follow the mountain, to the water’s source.
These river flowers, in a moment’s sensation,
Have brought us to meet in silent meditation.
Original Chinese Poem