The Empty Path

(midnight. – promoted by ek hornbeck)

In the shiver

of cold dew,

the lake’s mirror ripples.

In the cold dawn,

your footprints leave their mark

on the untrodden grass.

Not one Lakka leaf has fallen here.

But, after a barbaric cycle,

the warm soul of Autumn has returned.

The skiff sails back to the old wharf,

carrying moonlight in its hood.

Thich Nhat Hanh, circa 1966

2 comments

    • rb137 on April 22, 2009 at 10:01
      Author

    I hope everyone is getting some peace and downtime during this crazy week.

  1. Art and poetry keep one’s perspective from getting too tainted thanks. Nice poem.

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