No one to bother me, I like that
Look at the sky
It is like the palette of an artist
Who works with shades of gold and blue
Morning sounds from the first birds
Sunrise comes over the Sierra Nevada Mountains
James Lee Jobe
A bone to the dog is not charity. Charity is the bone shared with the dog, when you are just as hungry as the dog.
Jack London
Let silence be the conversation I seek
What is speech but a kind of bragging
Shut up, James
In life
You have already succeeded
James Lee Jobe
A quiet house. I am up late reading Matsuo Bashō’s ‘Narrow Road To The Interior.’ The haibun are pleasing, and I fall asleep in my chair, just an old man with his book in his lap.
At night the house settles
The occasional creaking sounds
Are very welcome
It’s our erroneous belief in a separate selfhood, with its insistent refrain of 'I, me, mine,' that keeps us from hearing and seeing directly.
Shinge Sherry Chayat Roshi
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