The patterns of the light overnight snow,
enhanced by the track of a lone feline,
etched itself in my artist's mind as I walked
the now routine block to the Zendo.

Under a western sky awash with dawn,
crested winter jays sang a trumpet chorus of ecstacy,
and my heart also joined in graditude
for the gift of this presence.

How immeasurably stretches this inner silence,
causeless, formless, absolutely free.
Lying so humbly beneath all existance,
supporting all phenomeon,
it is my only true love.