This is also in Daitokuji, for a country priest
who was the most beautiful player of the bamboo flute
in Japan and who played for me.
"It is as pure as starlight breathed into a silver thread,
as tender as the west wind teaching a forest love
song to a young bird."
This is after I lived and was living
in-- this was written in Ryoko-in
and was Kobori-san's favorite poem.
"What moves-- lightning, thieves, rabbits, fleas,
flies, fantasies.
Not time.
Thought pursued.
In my garden, rocks dream, pine needles
hold their raindrops like belief.
Butterflies flutter.
Do I?
It's hard to catch the moving when I move."
This in a temple too.
"We are four in the sand garden--
you, I, Friday star, and full Moon.
Night widens its white braid basket.
We drop into it our white words."