Thursday, 20 November 2014

The Play Of Light Within


These ancient pines
Singing of memories
Dry windblown needles,
Perhaps snow this winter? 


 Gathering in the Beauty of place
Supping from the open cup
Even breath is only now,
Every moment charged with an inner light.


The sound of water
Dissolves the city' bustle,
Even the chatter of visitors is stilled,
Here and there
Late afternoon rays alighting.


End of season the lotus 
Parched and withered may be,
In the depths the pond
The teaching remains!


Oh heart,
Centre of reception and giving
Gifts of earth and sky
Your bounty,
The voice of the crow
Echoing across the valley.




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