Waves on a Pebble Beach
“Tentative, as if fording a river in winter,
Hesitant, as if in fear of his neighbours;
Formal like a guest;
Falling apart like the thawing ice;
Thick like the un-carved block;
Vacant like a valley;
Murky like a muddy water.
Who can be muddy and yet, settling, slowly become limpid?
Who can be at rest and yet, stirring, slowly come to life?
He who holds fast to this way,
Desires not to be full;
It is because he is not full,
That he can be worn and yet newly mad. “