Dream broken,
can’t get back to sleep,
so I sit in my hut in the clear
early dawn. On another mountain the
bell has tolled; on a lone tree the first singing
birds. All of my limbs are tuned and limber, and all
of my states are deeply profound. Before I’ve finished
writing a letter, morning light shoots through the forest
branches. Trusting my nature, there’s nothing outside
I seek. Once quiet, ten thousand entanglements
end; why work for people in the dust,
a hundred years of useless
unrest?