February 17^th, 2026

At the break of day I come to an old temple
As the first rays of the sun glow on the treetops.
A path in the bamboo grove leads to a quiet retreat:
A meditation hall hidden behind flowering boughs.
Here, mountain scenery delights,
And the reflections in the pond empty one’s mind.
All murmurings are stilled in this presence,
But for the echoes of chimes and bells.

Li Po (701-762)