A Wish

A cave for me to hollow out

And incence for eternal zazen

A path towards a hermitage

And hot tea for the eternal giving

Everyday picking little seeds and shrubs

What merit there is, in sparing living creatures!

A bowl of dried rice makes triple the portion

An alms round for one takes a fraction of the time

No money to hold, nor fame to seek,

A moutain trail emerges like a poem,

In the middle of a bustling city

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