November 03rd, 2019 Through a face full of clear frostiness Raw cold bites through A head overstuffed With white hair. A gale whistles, And over the world From flowers of emptiness Shadows fall; But from my eyes The spells of darkness Have completely melted. Han Shan Te-ch’ing (1546–1623) Send a Zen Card Brighten a Friend's Day... Join our Subscribers Receive the Daily Zen Journal Home Contact Privacy Terms Site Map © 2024 TrueBlueDesigns. All rights reserved. Zen Vows Legend of Bodhidharma