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.
© Les Roberts 2016. All Rights Reserved.