Bodhisattva

Poem 259 by Han Shan

I love the joys of the mountains,
wandering completely free,
feeding a crippled body another day,
thinking thoughts that go nowhere.
Sometimes I open an old sutra,
more often I climb a stone tower
and peer down a thousand-foot cliff
or up where clouds curl around
where the windblown winter moon
looks like a lone-flying crane.

Somedays I feel very lucky to live in the place I live ~ cold, wet, chilled and very lucky.