As he began to cross his legs on each other, his mind
Was wandering nowhere between here and there; he
Withdrew his vision from the skyline of the city
To the cool fire burning in his belly; listening
To the whistling and whishing of traffic, he heard only
His own pulse. With the breeze came the odor of garlic
But he held his breath, while leaving all his inner doors
And windows ajar, letting his sensations travel freely
He believed in Qi, which was circulating with his blood
And his feeling and his thought. The light dimmed
A baby crow was flapping by. He found himself totally
Lost in a temple among puti trees within his yellowish
Skin. That was all the harmony of yin and yang he knows.
Yuan Changming
Ijagun Poetry Journal 