Making Tea


Breaking through night clouds

A paper fan,

Here the smell of things

Our pillows, the dregs of rain

All in a kettle.


Day Light

On the sundial

I find no directions

Lotus pond

Turned golden by a fire

Hidden by the monastery

Waiting so long


Look back while the morning comes,

Find your face on the mirrors edge,

Ride the moonlight rays,

It rains while you hide in shade.



What’s that, that stays the same?

What’s in playing with your crown?

I’m staring through glass,

So wear the grey before you fade away.