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Traveling
Again
I remember the temple, this route I’ve travelled before,I recall the bridge as I cross it again.It seems the hills and rivers have been waiting,The flowers and willows all are selfless now.
The field is sleek, and vivid, thin mist shines,On soft sand, the sunlight’s colour shows it’s late.All the traveler’s sorrow fades away,What better place to rest than this?
The
Farewell
We wanderers, ever seeking the lonelier way,begin no day where we have endedanother day; and no sunrise finds us wheresunset left us.Even while the earth sleeps we travel.
We are the seeds of the tenacious plant,and it is in our ripeness and our fullness ofheart that we are given to the wind and arescattered.
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