Zen

 

Gardens of rain and gravel

carved in mazes that unravel

spinning in those Zen spheres

soaking up the Gods’ tears.

Meditate in the quiet of the weeping world

dreams and hopes unwound, unfurled,

fix them with nails on rice paper walls

like butterfly wings forced to fall;

and while the wind plays flutes and silver chimes

release your thoughts, empty your mind

and take a trip into the vast beyond

but careful, do not stay too long/

For in the darkness of nothing (and less)

there in lies a Zen Masters test

for, if you stray into perfection

you may not come back,

such is minds retention

that what’s forgotten will lack

all luster and gleam of it’s previous days

therefore don’t get lost in the rain-gravel maze.