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Zen Ski
Downhill Japanese snow garden | |
A piste machine crawls like a great caterpillar furrowing the snow.
It rakes cold crystals,
in parallel, flowing grooves,
combing the mountain.
A ski in each trough,
one seeking contemplation,
glides, mind and body.
In quiet landscape,
the slow, uplifted skier
slaloms
in white peace
On frozen river,
bending past giant boulders,
drifting, pondering.
A Zen Buddhist monk,
at the winter machine's helm,
frees a serene smile.
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Annotation:
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Radical notion,
I can almost smell the snow.
Like, that's gnarly dude. |
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Down steepest hillsides,
The zen ski gardener thinks:
I am snow machine. |
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When I go skiing
Find me at the bottom,
In a broken heap. |
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Down RayfordSteele falls
Tumbling out of control
Towards the rock garden. |
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The snowboarder of
Time plummets towards the cliff
Of Eternity
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Watching from the lift
Queue, the Zen skiers smirk at
His doomed gyrations.
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wonderful idea.
Haiku presentation earns
For you a crescent.
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