Here are two poems of my very favorite poet from Cold Mountain – Han Shan.
He lived in China some 1200 years ago. His terse poems never fail to inspire me:
Cold Mountain is nothing but clouds
secluded and free of dust
a hermit owns a cushion of straw
the moon is his lone lamp
his bed of stone overlooks a pool
his neighbors are tigers and deer
preferring the joys of solitude
he remains a man beyond form
*****
I see people chanting sutras
relying on the words of others
mouths at work without their minds
mouths and minds at odds
the mind in truth contains no tangles
it creates no walls or chains
just examine your own self
don’t look for a stand-in
he who masters his own mouth
knows there’s no inside or out
(by Han Shan – the Hermit from Cold Mountain)
New Earth Heartbeat 