November 05^th, 2017

I've built my hut amongst the world of people,
Yet without the clatter of horse and cart.
If you asked how can that be?
I'd say I float distant from this dusty world,
I pluck the chrysanthemum bloom
Beneath the eastern fence,
And see serene the northern hills.
The hills glow at day's end light,
And chattering birds seek their nest.
There is a truth in all of this,
A mystery for which I lack the words.