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John Berryman - Dream Song 73: Karensui, Ryoan-ji
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The taxi makes the vegetables fly.
`Dozo kudasai,` I have him wait.
Past the bright lake up into the temple,
shoes off, and
my right leg swings me left.
I do survive beside the garden I

came seven thousand mile the other way
supplied of energies all to see, to see.
Differ them photographs, plans lie:
how big it is!
austere a sea rectangular     of sand by the oiled mud wall,
and the sand is not quite white: granite sand, grey,

—from nowhere can one see all the stones—
but helicopters or     a Brooklyn reproduction
will fix that—

and the fifteen changeless stones in their five worlds
with a shelving of moving moss
stand me the thought of the ancient maker priest.
Elsewhere occurs—I remember—loss.
Through awes & weathers neither it increased
nor did one blow of all his stone & sand thought die.
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