This one again
The same old word

The swift stream
Mountain torrent
Ever playful.

When words end
There is always song
After song laughter.

Bowling along
Wind blind

Hard against cloud
Pinioned by mist
I get wet.

Lower ever lower
The heights fall
The sea rises up.

This piece of clay
Molded by absent hands

The rigour of silence
Hard discipline
The birds sing.

The acorn bounces
Clattering branches

This slow dry autumn
Ignites the trees
Flaming beneath open skies.

The Hermitage, Chapel Peak.


About Jamie Nicol

Living in the forested hills of Catalonia, overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Zen teacher, recovering philosopher, small-scale natural farmer. Writing just what comes.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s