Jane Hirshfield captures the slow dance of consciousness in image and metaphor, there and then gone.
Take your time, read it several times over, commit it to memory. There is much depth and simple beauty here.
Its vision sweeps its one path
like an aged monk raking a garden,
his question long ago answered or moved on.
Far off, night-grazing horses,
breath scented with oatgrass and fennel,
step through it, disappear, step through it, disappear.
by Jane Hirshfield, from The Wisdom Anthology
of North American Buddhist Poetry
ed. Andrew Schelling, 2005