Blue mountains walking

Blue mountains walking

The blue mountains are constantly walking. 

The stone woman gives birth to a child in the night.

(Eihei Dogen, Mountains and Waters Sutra)


I walk softly upon this earth.

And the earth walks with me.

We meet where the blue mist

clings to the morning hollow. 


I am still as the distant peak, 

chasing vanishing cloud

through murmurations of thought.

Walking, wounded, the earth comes to me.


I follow the curve of your brow

down below the treeline.

We descend into the temperate folds

of evening's fallen gown. 


I peer into nothing and glimpse there

a world where cairn stones amble

and the risen valley folds into night.

Morningsong rents the eucalyptus veil.


I follow letters on thin scritta paper.

They conspire to fashion words,

then idioms toting meaning: careful hands

ferrying water from the stream.


I learn that Great Master Kuangzhen said

"eastern mountains travel on water."

In the rugged dry of the torrent bush

we tumble in our stillness like rain.



 May 2023