after years searching for answers
the pilgrim bows his head in sorrow
looking back along the trail
footprints emerge from a puddle
spurning the fineries of city life
seeking blue sky and wafting clouds
the radiant sun in the firmament
the sound of water over rocks
I sit alone by a mountain stream
listening to birds singing in trees
hunting treasure on an uncharted map
discovered deep in my quiet mind
waking early before the sun
struggling with images of dreams
a bird scuttles across the roof
removing last remnants of sleep
the evening storm has blown away
on the ancient southern wind
to the north monks chant in prayer
while dogs talk to the moon
thinly veil the rising moon
its evening glorious glow
frost on the valley floor
tent pitched beside a mountain stream
camp fire crackling under the stars
moonbeams decorate the tall pine trees
light dusting of snow beneath my feet
there I find a place beyond city lights
a forest clearing to call my home
and possess only things that have true wealth
my health, my mind, my freedom
burns off the night's chill
each sound a brush stroke
gauging my place in this world
taking notes from noble masters
accepting teachings from all
not discounting any lectures
I wander beyond the temple gate
to contemplate these lessons
listen - how great the sound
of even the smallest cicada
hiding behind the eucalyptus tree
every so often it took a breath
parting leaves while exhaling
letting out a lonely groan
chilling campfire's embers
scattering them with the dust
across forgotten footprints
