Old growth Douglas Firs,
their roots near a meander
of the Little Blackfoot,
know not that Dharma’s
being taught
in the old lodge of
woodpeckered walls
a quarter mile away.
Their special transmission
is outside scripture,
with no dependence on words.
Wide trunks fissured and charred
from fires of centuries,
they practice Upright Being
with mute profundity,
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Old growth Douglas Firs,
their roots near a meander
of the Little Blackfoot,
know not that Dharma’s
being taught
in the old lodge of
woodpeckered walls
a quarter mile away.
Their special transmission
is outside scripture,
with no dependence on words.
Wide trunks fissured and charred
from fires of centuries,
they practice Upright Being
with mute profundity,
keeping the beat of countless seasons,
a timbered symphony
of earth, water, sun, and sky,
two hundred feet high,
and a chorus of myriad smaller beings teaching
the Dharma of Just This
to the ten thousand things.
Jonathan Matthews Peaceful Mountain of the Source
