Confession

"The wise man sleeps without dreams
and wakes without worry," said old
Chuang-Tzu, fiercer than winter

I can see him by a river
stroking his beard, long and white, and
smoking his elongated pipe

Floating with his smoke-rings high in
the air, beyond the Ten Thousand things:
old Chuang-Tzu, dragon-philosopher

You are wise but forgive me for
dreaming something golden last night
and waking without a care.

Threshold - Howard Nemerov

When in still air and still in summertime
A leaf has had enough of this, it seems
To make up its mind to go; fine as a sage
Its drifting in detachment down the road.