Waiting, Dào-chán Style

after mind-melding with a doe

at Natural Root Bridge Creek,

these feet carried me

past geese and fishermen

to Pine Terrace Observatory.


There, “Hawk of the Pines”

(my ‘muse,’ for you Jungians)

circled through, casting a flurry of shadows,

piercing the air with her many ‘Pay Attentions!’.


Ground-bees prepared their dwellings by swarm and arrangement.


Ants marched along leaf ridge

like a tribe setting out on a great migration.


Red buckeyes

lifted their florets to the sun

as an offering.


Downed poplars and pines

from last year’s wind storms

disintegrate and feed “the newcomers.”


Everything is on about the business of being,

adhering to their way-within-the-Way.


Us, too, of course,

whether or not we know it.


It has been said that

with the way of knowledge

something is added each day


but with the Way of Dào

something is removed.


I’ve traded in all my statues and sutras

in exchange for rain buckets and watering cans.


The only enlightenment that interests me now

is the luminosity emitted from the inside of things

when the sky turns dark and the clouds roll in,

heavy and wonderful.