Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Our campfire is a single light
Amongst a hundred peaks and waterfalls.
The manifold voices of falling water
talk all night.
Wrapped in your down bag
Starlight on your cheeks and eyelids
Your breath comes and goes
In a tiny cloud in the frosty night.
Ten thousand birds sing in the sunrise.
Ten thousand years revolve without change. All this will never happen again.