One hand claps my ear
no irony rings the bell
enter the zen-dō
harmony, a tear
as it rolls down, I feel sound
not bad, not unwell
despite a soft blow
clearly, Zenji hears the pitch
lifts me, wings unbound
anger, desire, fear
pains me more than delusion
serves me right, unclear
mind, a decision
yesterday, at dusk, I stitch
each cut with some thread
as to what I dread
restless wolves, an ancient witch
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