A haiku written some time ago, when I found myself by a little waterfall in the University Parks on a day off. I was reminded of a chapter in one of my long-time favourite books, Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind, in which Suzuki-roshi talks about human existence as being like the drops that form a waterfall.
The roar of the water, the lack of distance between subject and object, between listener and waterfall - where does one end and the other begin?
The pot of mint, that sits by our tea-table in the image, and its silhouette are of a similar feeling to the haiku, making an implicit link between the two.
A haiku written some time ago, when I found myself by a little waterfall in the University Parks on a day off. I was reminded of a chapter in one of my long-time favourite books, Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind, in which Suzuki-roshi talks about human existence as being like the drops that form a waterfall.
ReplyDeleteThe roar of the water, the lack of distance between subject and object, between listener and waterfall - where does one end and the other begin?
The pot of mint, that sits by our tea-table in the image, and its silhouette are of a similar feeling to the haiku, making an implicit link between the two.
Toodlepip,
Hobbes