January 22nd, 2020
Heaven turns so slowly and gently,
It tolerates my age.
Days and months advance to cut off my time.
I return to my cave in the mountain,
But the trees are all gone.
I look down on the river,
And all I see are meandering curves.
The sun is captured in a cage of delicate clouds.
I listen to the wind.
Suddenly I hear the Temple Bell!
The sound comes washing over me,
Waking me from the dusty labor of my thoughts.
And distant heaven opens wider and wider to me.