Wild Fox Zen
Twenty-six years since I underwent home-leaving with Katagiri-roshi. Like a summer cloud.
Beautiful evening here. Half moon playing with the clouds. Before turning in, I think of this old poem by Dogen:
Evening quiet
a fish of brocade scales
reaches bottom
then goes this way
then that way;
arrow notch splits.
a fish of brocade scales
reaches bottom
then goes this way
then that way;
arrow notch splits.
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