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.
-- FarmerJohn, Feb 27 2003

Radical notion,
I can almost smell the snow.
Like, that's gnarly dude.
-- sild, Feb 27 2003


Down steepest hillsides,
The zen ski gardener thinks:
I am snow machine.
-- st3f, Feb 27 2003


When I go skiing
Find me at the bottom,
In a broken heap.
-- Jinbish, Feb 27 2003


Down RayfordSteele falls
Tumbling out of control
Towards the rock garden.
-- RayfordSteele, Feb 27 2003


The snowboarder of
Time plummets towards the cliff
Of Eternity

Watching from the lift
Queue, the Zen skiers smirk at His doomed gyrations.


-- 8th of 7, Feb 27 2003


wonderful idea.
Haiku presentation earns
For you a crescent.

-- ato_de, Feb 27 2003



random, halfbakery