The Mountain Poems of Stonehouse

This body lasts about as long as a bubble may as well let it go things don’t often go as we wish who can step back doesn’t worry we blossom and fade like flowers we gather and part like clouds I stopped thinking about the world a long time ago relaxing all day in a teetering hut

What’s gone is already gone and what hasn’t come needs no thought right now I’m writing a right-now line plums are ripe and gardenias in bloom

all night I sit in bed listening to rain when it clears I open the window and doze off watching clouds nothing in life is better than being free but getting free isn’t luck

delusions require stillness to end

accepting conserves my strength

I make a path for the moonlight

my survival has always depended on what’s present why should I tire myself out making plans

True emptiness is also empty of emptiness and thus includes all things.

Parched wheat and pine pollen make a fine meal vine flowers and salted bamboo make a tasty dish when I’m exhausted I think of nothing else let others become buddhas or immortals