A Poem for Red Pine

A Poem for Red Pine

Bill Porter went West, took a new name

and came back from the East to spread the word.

A master of the shadow art,

he trails behind

recasting Chinese ideograms into new lines

for English minds.

He works from a second floor study in Port Townsend,

deciphering black strokes from faraway days with sharp eyes,

diamond mind – a time of flaming hearts:

writers of the Silent Word.

On the wall of his study, a Tibetan tanka.

A small painting of bamboo with a poem by Wang Wei.

Through a window, the Cascade Mountains.

Through another window, the ocean.

Through another window, the branch of a plum tree.

Pine trees and bamboo sway in the  morning wind.

Light brightens a new day

as the pine tree’s shadow disappears,

leaving no trace.