When your consciousness has become ripe in true zazen-pure like clear water, like a serene mountain lake, not moved by any wind-then anything may serve as a medium for realization.
April's air stirs in Willow-leaves...a butterfly Floats and balances
Don't imitate me / we are not two halves / of a muskmelon.
Nothing in the cry of cicadas suggests they are about to die
How I long to see among dawn flowers, the face of God.
Learn how to listen as things speak for themselves.