Reflection on Impermanence In Nature
The midday heat shimmers above the empty fields, the combine having left only golden stubble behind. I walk across the harvested land, breathing in the dry smell of earth. Last spring my feet sank into soft mud here; now the ground is hard beneath them. The crops have come and gone, yet the land, sky and wind remain. I suddenly feel how brief my own passing through this world really is.
golden stubble shines
drifting clouds cross endless blue
dry earth beneath me
I too am passing through
a shadow across the earth