Camp

Raven cries, "Stop thinking!"
Mountain breezes
murmur in the hemlock,
"Stop trying not to think."
Down by glowing
campfire embers
evening is still and windless,
the valley of Wu Wei
lovely and green.
Here you must look
if you want to see.
Silt settles in a stream.
Problems vanish by themselves.
No need to touch
the surface or the depth.
This we call, "Stop thinking."
To rest on the bank
and listen to the music
of melting snow.
This we call, "Stop trying
not to think."
They are one and the same
practice.
There is no practice.
White waters of silence
tumble over 10,000 stones.

Photo: Took this on a hike at Mt. Tahoma (Rainier)