July 15^th, 2024

Unaware of illusion or enlightenment,
From this stone I watch the mountains,
Hear the stream.
A three-day rain has cleansed the earth,
A roar of thunder split the sky.
Ever serene are linked phenomena,
And though the mind’s alert, it’s but an ash heap.
Chilly as the dusk I move through,
I return, a basket brimmed with peaches on my arm.