who am I
which part of me
is unsatisfied
spring fog is here
warm afternoons and cool air
no track of time
conditioned mind
its vision narrow
look through awareness
mix of emotions
watching preferences arise
I’ll take the green tea
stone thrown in pond
water reverberates
birds fly, flowers fall
a candle flickers
our true self is right here
light casts a shadow
looking deeply into
the mirror of samadhi
I vow to polish
laughing with delusions
being with others
opening new doors
cleaning the zendo
birds singing dharma
time to go home
the han sounds funny
a friend points to the center
sound of wood rings clear
dolphins passed us in winter
we watched from the shore
no coincidence
returning to office
meeting with other buddhas
please have some tea
life is a painting
both dreadful and wonderful
who is the artist?
eating clam chowder
before sitting zazen
doan, ring the bell
Fog Sutra 