Mind, mind, mind: above the Path.
Here on my mountain, gray hair down, I cherish bamboo sprouts, brush carefully by pine twigs.
Burning incense, I open a book: mist over flagstones.
Rolling the blind, I contemplate: Moon in the pond.
Of my old friends how many know the Way.
- Zengetsu
Zen Poems of China and Japan, p. 42
You did not wrote this poem but simply took it out of a book???
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