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 –
A thin layer of ice
      cracks and splash!
The waters part.

– Trishatur La Galia.


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