The Journey Itself Is My Home.

The Temple Bell Stops But I Still Hear The Sound Coming Out Of The Flowers.

The Desire To Break The Silence With Constant Human Noise Is, I Believe, Precisely An Avoidance Of The Sacred Terror Of That Divine Encounter.

Old Pond, Leap-splash - A Frog.

All My Friends / Viewing The Moon – / An Ugly Bunch.

Fresh Spring! / The World Is Only Nine Days Old - / These Fields And Mountains!