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

The Mountain Poems of Stonehouse, Seven-Syllable Verses, 31

bizarre rocks and gnarled pines remain unknown
to those who look for the mind with the mind

The Mountain Poems of Stonehouse, Seven-Syllable Verses, 44

Late autumn rain is all mist
tiger tracks appear in the moss

The Mountain Poems of Stonehouse, Seven-Syllable Quatrains, 147

everything is dew on the grass
nothing stays the same

The Mountain Poems of Stonehouse, Other Verses, 175