In Basho's house

In Basho's house

there are no walls,

no roof, floors

or pathway -

nothing to show

where it is,

yet you can enter

from any direction

through a door

that's always open.

You hear voices

though no one

is near you -

you'll listen without

knowing you do.

Time and time

you get up to greet

a stranger coming

towards you.

No one ever appears.

Hours and seasons

lose their names -

as do passing clouds.

Rising moon and setting sun

no longer cast shadows.

Sounds drift in

like effortless breathing -

frogsplash, birdsong,

echoes of your

own footsteps.

It all ceases

to exist in Basho's house -

the place you've entered

without knowing

you've taken a step.

Sit down. Breathe

in, breathe out.

Close your tired eyes.

Basho is sitting beside you -

a guest in his own house.

~  Peter Skyzynecki

from:  Old/New World: New & Selected Poems