Self lost in smoke trails from the flickering wick.
A clattering ox kindly returns it to me. Still yet
to mark that hidden door, I let the light go.
The broken plow can wait till morning.
In the nights heat the midges won’t cease. Wall
of unread books fills my wide open eyes. I
rise, and take the ox from the stable. In the
moons company, we plow through the night tide.
By the bramble gate I wait your coming, a
shihyu wind rends mountains to wisps. Heavens
power knows no limits over this dragon vast land.
Sky dims. An ox cart rolls by. I’ll wait, a little longer.
A moths trail meets my forehead. Stirred from dream, I
light the lamp. Idle pots sent in patterns of scatter
by a fox – a scamper to the grass. I’ll leave the lamp
on – a monk or recluse may wander by. Empty words still good to share.
First picture found here: http://skybrandt.wordpress.com/2012/04/18/horizontal-flute-played-on-the-back-of-an-ox/
Second picture found here: http://terebess.hu/english/oxherding.html
Third picture found here: http://www.liveauctioneers.com/item/11712166_a-fine-chinese-painting-by-tang-yin
Fourth picture found here: http://www.art-virtue.com/painting/history/yuan/yuan.htm