The muscle in my right arm The snowstorm that taunted me for days The peeking of the Buddha The disappearing pathways And the magnified moon Hovering behind the forest night It’s yellow glow a stare Back into the abyss within my sight Where does the bear sleep? Is it next to the fox? Can my whisper into the cold breeze Wake them as would wintry knock knocks I ravel in this mountain In its narrow trails I look out across the frozen lake And feel my frozen fingernails The current under ice Motion under all the still And the moon hangs high then low But always peeping through my will