Friday, July 2, 2021


What really is there to say about Zen?
It is simply there, speaking for itself

in syllables that are not quite real
in the grand illusion of the who, what, when, and where.

Mountains exist, capped with snow,
and the fact that one can see them is its own reward.

But one should not look too hard.
Veils of mist can quickly wipe them away

erasing their white gleam from the eye,
erasing the intervening miles and even the day.

And so it goes.
There is the art of sweeping,

of tending the garden.
Even Dr, Pangloss agrees.

I sit and wonder,
or not.

That is the point.
The tea practically pours itself.

~William Hammett

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