December 24^th, 2019

The myriad differences
Resolved by sitting,
All doors opened.
In this still place
I follow my nature,
Be what it may.
From the one hundred flowers
I wander freely,
The soaring cliff-
My hall of meditation.
Sitting on this frosty seat,
No further dream of fame.
The forest, the mountain
Follow their ancient ways,
And through the long spring day,
No even the shadow of a bird,