Lifting the Net

I’m a bird who’s found his way to the forest.

–Po Chü-I

Sitting alone in the place of practice, the

cranes rise beyond the mirror I avoid and

I put down the great perfection and dream

of a path that shimmers in the mountains

that have always called, the ones that float

beyond the village I keep alive in my mind,

the village of counters and complainers.

The problem in living is that the soul, like

a horse dragging a plow for someone else,

can’t find its way back to wonder. But the

soul has to live in the world. So taking off

the harness isn’t the answer. Somehow the

soul must lead. Then the harness loosens

and becomes a teacher.

And the mind, what of the mind?

Like the tumblers to a safe that only

holds light, it is only of use until it

opens itself.