on a quiet halt sitting by the mountain path spring or fall, Who knows?
ah! at last spring comes! it feels so much easier to get enlightened
pondering back: how did I land on this cushion this spring this morning
a light winter rain arises during our sitting refreshes the zendo
these rustling trees what do they try to tell me? I sit and listen
readying to join this new season of the world I can't but just sit
at the Zendo's door a worn-out toothless granny I smiled back at her /di…
again and again on this cushion, unsure of what I'm doing here
have you seen it? A dragon just swirled by? No one has - and yet
until the sun rises no sky no sea to be seen sitting before dawn
bored on my cushion I see this boredom through and go sitting some more
after my sitting wary to be back to this impossible world
before my sitting I fit messy odds and ends in a neat drawer
