Sitting, facing the wall/
A fly stops upon my hand.
I jump and flick, it flies away/
And I return to my thoughts.
Not quite the Stone Buddha yet.
A wee stone Buddha I really liked at Throssel Hole Buddhiist Abbey where I spent this weekend. Poem by me, inspired by the wonderful works of RyĆkan.
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1 comments:
Aww, I love the way you use the word 'wee'!
Best accent in the world.
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