Confucian and Taoist: though different ways,
They merge here in all this forest and cloud,
Our two minds joined together in such joy
As we talk and laugh in the day’s last light.

Ready for sleep, we return
To high twilight windows,
Gaze across distant peaks aflame:
It carries thought back to red-cliff beacons,
Brings memories of towering coastal peaks.

With a creek’s windswept sound so crystalline,
Who needs the tune of a silent mountain sage?