Waiting for a soul’s call
the swirls in the pebbles
the ripples in the lake
the heartbeats of the crane
at rest you echo
your steps slow on the incline
and on entering the balcony at the third story of the pagoda
the woods nod and wake
the stone lamp sentinels
the pagoda oversees
gardeners are busy from daybreak to twilight
the monk arrives just before new moon
and sits
This poem was published in the Red Letter Poem series; scroll down to No. 9.
Andy Oram
April 17, 2020