A Zen Garden
A circle of small white stones
brass wind chimes,
one lone, pink-blossomed cherry tree,
birds twittering
small fountain tinkling - the whole works.
I sit, empty my mind,
too much tinkling and twittering
grow restless, recite
a low pitched Buddhist hymn
which scares the birds away.
The wind picks up
chimes tinkle -
tinkling becomes annoying,
a clanking;
Now I can hardly hear myself
not-thinking.
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