POEM ON THE WALL OF A BATH HOUSE
If nothing truly exists,
what are you bathing?
Where could even the slightest bit
of dust come from?
Even if you see no difference between
the water and the dirt,
it all must be washed away
completely, when you
enter here.
KONGSHI DAOREN
SITTING, MORNING
Simply notice breathing from the belly below navel.
Your story drops away like stonefly husk.
The warm light flow of life force
like fluid filling out wings
drying in the sun
expresses itself in flight.
Here is life, death, compassion.
What else passes in the blur?
7/21/23
