October 25th, 2016
Wang Wei (710-761)
He waits as at dusk, bamboo walking stick in hand,
At the headwaters of Tiger Creek,
Leading us on as we listen to mountain echoes,
Following the water’s way.
Patches of wildflowers bloom.
A solitary bird calls from the valley floor.
We sit evening zazen in the empty forest:
Quiet pine winds bring the scent of autumn.