On Bare Floors
On Bare Floors
On bare floors
I shuffle in stillness –
The rock garden
echoes this nothingness.
The collapse of reasoning
Zazen today has given me.
Can the bell really give off
light and shadows?
Open the window – look it’s there.
Chopping wood –
Only.
A thin layer of ice
cracks and splash!
The waters part.
– Trishatur La Galia.
——-
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