A Quarterly Journal of Contemporary English Language Haibun
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December 2005, vol 1 no 3

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Ron Moss


mountain zen

We're gathered on Mount Wellington at the edge of the Tasmanian wilderness—a mountain that rises 1300 metres above the port city of Hobart. I'm with fellow Zen meditators and friends. We support each other on the path and we have come to mark the passing of 15 years of Zen practice in a small rock cabin called Kara.

water ferns
one in more sunlight
than the rest

We sit in a silence that eminates from deep within the rock. I read a passage by Suzuki Roshi "die into the moment, don't move!"  I signal another time period and we settle into our breath.

second bell
a flame-robin scatters
heavy dew

The wind lifts and the old rock cabin roof changes key. The smell of undergrowth mixed with pine incense fills our senses.

broken window-
an edge of cloud
settles on the ridge


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