Tuesday, November 24, 2009

After Reading Hsieh Ling-yun

Sitting within these walls of books, I try to remember springtime mountains and fluent streams.

And following this point of view, I come to the middle of a quiet col that holds a silent little pond.

The surface of the pond is still, reflecting birch and ash and sky; my eyes are drawn into its depths and I see everything!

But I'm looking out my window now and the stark November landscape teaches me a thing or two about absolutely nothing.

~Son Rivers 2009

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