Wnged Zen: The Sky Never Moves
A fluttering black butterfly,
with silver edged wings.
Dances in the air, beguine.
Hollow clearing in the woods.
Observation; the phenomena,
winged Zen, transparent.
In the nature of things,
existing in the moment.
Dead-giveaway, it's now become.
eye-catching, here & now.
Undisturbed: oscillate, dart, float.
The sky, never moves.
Be as the mountains & rivers,
They walk on forever.
Neither high nor low have width.
Yet can reach the farthest seashore.
To be as the mountains & just sit.
Sitting ZaZen, serene.
(See photo of
black, silver-tipped butterfly)
