clusters of pink droplets dangle elegantly from long slender green stems rooted in rock wall nodding onion drifts off to sleep until the next breeze
…standing on tip-toe and overreaching, it’s easy to fall. …and if you cling to your work, nothing you create will last.
cool blues and greens the river like a mirror reflecting cotton clouds of summer canoes nose their way to cool dark pools salmon fry dart from rock to rock paddles dip J strokes waves ripple to the natural sandy shore a flicker drums on an old log while towhees forage in the undergrowth
…Tao makes crooked places straight, rough places smooth, fills the pools, When there is no goal everything succeeds. It all comes to One in the end.
bright mauve pinks greys fill the sky light winds move large arbutus leaves curious racoon scratches its chin sniffs the air smells an angry bird
…where the Way rules, plow horses fertilize the fields; where the Way does not rule, war horses parade in the park…
up before dawn anglers gather their gear and hop in a rowboat dipping oars into the glass-like water even the kingfisher is asleep the wolf on the hill calls and an echo travels the valley lines are cast fishers wait in silence nothing moves but the radiating waves water wolf is too dark to see
…Tao is like a dream, invisible like the air, in it there are images elusive, evading, essences that are difficult to discern shadows cast by the real light…
forest floor gathers moss under grey skies drops of rain filter through cedar branches and sword ferns dark-eyed juncos pluck clumps of moss and disappear into salal bushes smells of pineapple and citrus zest sprinkle the air as the sun warms essential oils of fir and spruce trees
…those who know don’t talk, those who talk don’t know. Better to listen.