Suchness at Garland Bay

standing on a small promontory of stone
the first part of the east shore to receive the sun
seeking the exact words for
the garment light lays on the wide lake

a waving net of shifting reflections of
the light green of the western range
interweaving with dazzles of sky blue
on the vast dim depth below

my lover comes down from a nearby perch
and says she forgot her pen so
just let the waves roll over her mind
we chat a little then I stop
struck dumb

by the silent mass of a great black stone
rising from a sea of pebbles like an island
glinting with sparks of mica
like stars in a black stone night

then I stumble across the smooth, shifting pebbles
to kiss its rough, black crown
almost in tears

pure suchness I say

finally knowing what that word means

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