KANJI LIGHT

I only need
an upstairs room with plenty of light,
a half-time job
and my life will take on order,
looseness.
Soon we shall be in the mountains and
already
I am thinking about them
as one would think of a long lost relative
before re-union.
The joy of writing is like the joy of mountains,
and being alive,
and they all teach each other,
so the word improves life
and life improves the word.
It’s like we can learn if we teach ourselves
to learn every day
like you learn a kanji,
going over it from other angles,
figuring the meaning of the small strokes,
trusting it is there,
an orange-colored soulness
like a religious paint
on the trees
on the wind
through the forest.
Sometimes I can see it from my room
if the light is right . . .

April 21, 1970