Dreaming of the Spring

Single icicle
Shining off the kitchen eave
Greets the morning sun.










Patient stone Buddha
In front of the snow shovel,
Completely at rest.












This giant fir tree
Towers above house and road.
I never noticed.

Pan sits in the snow;
No flutes and no cavorting;
Dreaming of the Spring.










Faint sound of yacking
Comes from the open car door
With radio on.

The stream bed is white;
Soft bends illustrate its nature.
"Closed for the Winter."

How far can I walk
Without seeing anything--
In my monkey mind?

Bird talk in the woods
Goes back and forth just like us.
Are they listening?