Dewdrops on a Crane's Bill

Today, a collection of poems by Dogen:

Autumn's colors dropping from branches in masses of falling leaves,
Cold clouds bringing rain into the crannies of the moutains:
Everyone was born with the same sort of eyes—
Why do mine keep seeing things as Zen koans?

___________________

In the heart of the night,
The moonlight framing
A small boat drifting,
Tossed not by the waves
Nor swayed by the breeze.

___________________

About the mountain crest
A brush of cloud floating,
Wild geese fly in files passing
As the moon is hiding behind
A pine tree on the ridge.

___________________

Looking out
Past where there are
Cherry blossoms or crimson leaves,
To the grass-thatched huts by the bay
Clustered in the descending autumn dusk.

___________________

A firefly's
Soft glimmer,
As the mountain ridge
Faintly appears under the
Dim glow of the moon.

___________________

To what shall
I liken the world?
Moonlight, reflected
In dewdrops,
Shaken from a crane's bill.

___________________

—Medusa

Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry and announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets. Previously-published poems are okay for Medusa’s Kitchen, as long as you own the rights. (Please cite publication.)