Sitting in my own little corner, I watch dust motes drifting in the sunlight, random leaves swirling in midair, heaps of discard filling the wastebaskets, and pristine little pebbles resting on the riverbed …
I reflect on every path that leads to the mind’s home.
It is a path that leads nowhere. One arrives at every step. This desert scrubland is as perfect as that childhood dreamland – there is no need to rush elsewhere.
~ Thoughts extended from a Chinese couplet originated in the Ming dynasty –
If to translate literally, it would be –
Sitting in my front yard, I watch flowers unfold or fall
clouds gather or fleet …