Abbot

All these years

being self-sufficient

feeding on seclusion

clarity and silence

far away from the crowd

the entanglements

and old hard memories

limpid water and zen under

the sacred tree

raw aroma coagulated at the fingertips

every speck and bead

terse crystalline chapters

diffuse through the crisp sound of bells

amidst the morning mist

when it’s windy

Sanskrit on the strings

drifts out of tranquility

curls into the willowy

dusk gracefully

whether the grass

dark or light

the season glorious or dry

there’s no woe no joy

no disclosing the secrets of time

in the slumber of tired birds

last night’s rain swells the pond

before the temple in the mountain

residual raindrops fall from the corners

of the eaves intermittently

the door lock rusted afresh

the abbot counts the lingering tones

then disappears once more.

 

 

 

Deep in a dream

Barefoot

warm air

music fermenting

on four walls

two people

in a story

one wedding

the ring shimmering

in the sun

candlelight dripping

white wax

cheers sketched

in the mirror

silhouette and smile

bear witness

to the past

looking back again

2 o’clock in the morning

old cat hunching its back meowing

at 2 o’clock in the morning

the air is warm

you send out screams

that person wakes up from her dream

yawning.

 

Beryl

Hands outstretched

plunge into the sky

pluck a broken cloud

plot a rainbow

pick up some crayons

fill up voids

of fairy tales

floating in the castle

of fantasy

birds in the sun

trailing

Polaris of the night

trailing

all happiness

all diamond-like tears

all winged islets

trailing.