spring2015

Yuan ChangmingThe Zen Master Taking a Nap: A Parallel PoemAs he began to sit like a frog by crossing his legsOn each other, he found his mind lost in a cloudWandering nowhere between here and there; he thenWithdrew his vision from the skyline of the cityTo the cool fire burning in his belly; listeningTo the whistling and whishing of traffic, he heard onlyHis own pulse. With the breeze came the odor of garlicFish and mutton from a nearby home, but he held hisBreath long, while leaving all his inner doorsAnd windows ajar, letting his sensations travel freelyHe believed in Qi, which was circulating with his bloodAnd his feeling and his thought. The light dimmedA baby crow was flapping by. He led his whole selfhoodTo a temple among puti trees within his yellowishSkin. That was all the harmony of yin and yang he knows120