There's light cloud, and drizzle round
the pavilion,
In the dark yard, I wearily open a gate.
I sit and look at the color of green
moss,
Ready for people's clothing to pick up.
-Wang Wei
Late afternoon like late evening. Dark
and misty. It is the misty realms of the Dao. We see but we do not see. For
some reason these moments stay with me. The old fence is a testament to the
time that has passed. Moments of true consciousness come and go like the tide
rushing the shore.
