I remember when I unknowingly said to you:
"If you don't like me, leave me alone", and then
you did not.
I remember living in your green house where there was little
difference between the out and the in,
the pans and the bells hanging from the trees in the woods
Reading by the stove in a room closed against the cold
by worn blankets tacked to the door frames
You told me that I would be Buddhist, and now your photo
will be on the altar, and your friends will be there
It doesn't surprise me
Thank you for helping me along the way. Here is a blazing sun for you.