a temple in kyoto, july 2026 jianyuan tapped the coffin and asked, "alive or dead?" daowu replied, "i won't say alive, i won't say dead." blue cliff record, case 55 ashes of whom laid to to rest rainwaters tomorrow's rest the time of who is gone is now travels entrusted to urns kept safe of names' erring what do they do we know

the moon and sun are eternal travelers. even the years wander on. a lifetime adrift in a boat, or in old age leading a tired horse into the years, every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home. mastuō basho / narrow road to the interior in memory of jivan west a sea stack stands there alone vastness without shore sprawling waves wash over you starlit nights illumine your face it's summer time murmur of branches music for the roots reaching far into where passingness

munggu, bali, 2026 almost to the point of silence the ever unpointable flickering on the threshold of not knowing which way to fall words fewer than before when the dark had sprawled beyond questions street noise birdsongs from the eaves brushes of the morning quick against the sky the rain has almost stopped traced before us a trail scattering of clouds do you rejoice do you regret

we can say it with silence our native tongue - w.s.merwin * things falling away arrayed yet ungraspable slowly the hand opens the mind stillness is * the heart realm of all paths the home crossings here and there movement incessant closures none * in its fullness just empty space knows no hurdles the heart * whose heart whispers here in this mountain heat bracing for winds unflinching * everything opens up is laid bare before the rocks before the sky becomes breath * ni