Thursday Poem

The Tao that can be named is not the real Tao.
………………………….. —Lao Tzu

Myself

I am planted in the earth
Happily, like a cabbage
Carefully peel away the layers of language
That clothe me and soon
It will become clear I am nowhere to be found
And yet even so, my roots lie beneath . . .
.

by Chimako Tada
from Hanabi (Fire Works)
publisher: Shoshi Yuriika, Tokyo, 1956
translation: 2010, Jeffrey Angles