As we relax and restore body, mind, and spirit, windblown thoughts to savor:

Combed by wind and rinsed by rain, 

or stepping into dew among the stars,
I sifted through our shallow thoughts

and left their tight compass behind.
Without shell or stalk for divination,

I picked out the fine and wondrous,
cut thornwood staffs and blazed trails

in my search for boulders and cliffs.
Here, four mountains circled round,

a pair of streams winding through,
I soon had a library facing south ridges

and a teaching hall against north slopes,
a hall for meditation
 among sheer peaks
and huts for monks along deep streams.

Verse 29 of the poem “Dwelling in the Mountains” from
The Mountain Poems of Hsieh Ling-yun (385-433 C.E.)
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