Dwelling in the Mountains #18
Slipping from gardens to fields
and from fields on toward lakes,
I float and drift on and on along
rivers to realms of distant water,
sage pools in mountain streams deepening into recluse dark
and hazy confusions of wild rice clearing away along islands.
Fragrant springwater swells into springtime cascades here,
and chilled waves quicken amid autumn’s passing clarity.
Wind churning up lakewater around islands full of orchids,
sunlight pours through pepper trees and on across the road,
and soaring lazily over the mid-stream island,
the pavillion there soaked in its luster, the moon in water is a perfect joy.
Lingering out shadows, mornings infuse things with clarity,
and suffusing the air, fragrant scents settle into evenings
here, where thinking of loved ones lost to me forever now,
I can look forward to the evanescent visits of cloud guests.
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