Songs for Cold Mountain

"Towering cliffs were the home I chose
bird trails beyond human tracks
what does my yard contain
white clouds clinging to dark rocks
every year I've lived here
I've seen the seasons change
all you owners of tripods and bells
what good are empty names." – Han Shan, 1






Punta Cana

1

Back home the world is below zero
the sky is likely clear but untouchable
here on the white sands of Punta Cana
we are winter flowers our feet are seeds
it does not take that much to bloom
behind the long leaf of the palm tree
above our small hut the sun is close
enough to seek us for rescue

2

The cobblestone our walkways
here the Dominican workers move
back and forth from tricycles with baskets
filled with small shovels and hard rakes
to manicure the encroaching jungle
small kittens dart under the mangroves
the mice and small creatures hide
in wet tunnels under the teak bridge

3

Mind must be something like weather
morning it rains and droplets cover the windows
clouds linger and brief hope is dashed
blue is the color of new dreams
yellow above is mother spoiling us
when dawn strikes we walk the beach
and lights from the resorts skim the tips
of waves like lightening strikes