February 09^th, 2026

It’s all an empty boat, oars dangling free,
But return goes on without end. The year
Begins, and suddenly, in a moment’s glance,
Midyear stars come back around, bright
Sun and moon bringing such abundance.

North woods lush, blossoming,
Rain falls in season from hallowed depths.
Dawn opens. Summer breezes rise.
No one comes into this world without leaving soon.
It’s our inner pattern, which never falters.
At home here in what lasts, I wait out life.

A bent arm my pillow, I keep empty whole.
Follow change through rough and smooth,
And life’s never up or down. If you can see
How much height fills whatever you do,
Why climb Hua or Sung, peaks of immortality?

T’ao Ch’ien (365-427)