Words

What am I doing with these words-
painting the dharma
like a lush foreign landscape
to be captured and conveyed
before seasons ending when
words will fail me and
the green garden fades?

In truth, I am not needed
nor does the way become more clear
because of me.
I am made more clearly, unfading,
from the way.
The dharma, unspoken, evergreen,
takes care of itself.