ON JADE BEACH
On Jade Beach,
Looking out west,
Indigo and white, the sea.
Ripples, woven ikat patterns
By the cold wind.
We could not tell
What was precious,
Nor what bestowed
Immortality:
Pockets weighed down
With smoothed fragments
Of beauty.
Dark pine leans out.
An arc of dark sand.
White, cold wind from the mountains.
These pebbles were mountains,
This sea, spring rains.
Looking for signs of heaven,
Dreaming of jade rivers.
Six foot of snow
Deep in the hills.
Inside the grass-roofed houses,
Warm and dark:
Silk-drying racks,
Rice-harvest regalia.
The big drum is silent
But its roundness
Fills up the valleys
All around.
Our footprints along the ice paths
Melted, flowed into the bay.
The cedars redden again with pollen,
Rust-red in the sharp sunlight.
On smooth black sand
The tide rolls a pebble
To and fro.
Your fingertips
Impressed on clay tea-bowl rim.
The fragrance of memory
Bitter and bright.
These roads we take
So winding,
It is difficult to recall
The last views of the sea,
The last of the sunset.
Go on,
We shall not be far behind.
Down to the sea
Looking for immortality.
*****
BLEAK WIND
(no reason why
It should come up.
No reason why
It should not.
Remembering
The last time we saw you
Burdened but smiling
Far over the mountain passes
Down by the sea
Laughter along the shore
Dark pines listening
A bleak wind
Mountain still deep in snow)
****
THE WAY IT IS
no need to wait
no need to look back.
we are all following,
one by one.
the winding path
into deep mountain
stillness.
***
simonhlilly 