Just let your mind wander along in the drift of things. Trust yourself to what is beyond you–let it be the nurturing center. Then you’ve made it. In the midst of all this, is there really any response? Nothing can compare to simply living out the inevitable unfurling of your life. And there’s nothing more difficult.
Chuang Tzu, from Chuang Tzu: The Inner Chapters translated by David Hinton
Far into distances on this Ch’ang-an road,
year-end skies spread away all ashen haze,
drifting snow filling rivers and mountains
new moon to old, dark blur beyond blur.
Arriving geese can’t tell rock from water.
Crows cry hunger across abandoned fields.
I’m empty here, a grief-stricken traveler
gazing: no sign of cook-smoke anywhere.
–Meng Hao-Jan
translated by David Hinton in The Mountain Poems of Meng Hao-Jan
wind out of the south so bitter now
in distant clouds an emptiness
lost in endlessly stirring waves
out of waiting a precious silence
drafty mountain hut 