When berating oneself
for slow progress
remind yourself
how many hours
you have put in.
Is that enough
for mastery
when comparing
the years
you have lived?
When berating oneself
for slow progress
remind yourself
how many hours
you have put in.
Is that enough
for mastery
when comparing
the years
you have lived?
A bad teacher
tells his student
when he has done wrong
but not how to do right
Those birds that chirrup a sweet song
Perhaps they were born with gifts
But the Mockingbird learns tune by tune
Listening to the beauty of others
Note by note he copies and twists
Until his hard work yields a repertoire
As brilliant as the colors of autumn
In a book, a few hours encompass a lifetime
And the wisdom gained therein seeps
Like rain into soil
Forgotten and subtle, it may yet feed:
A seedling
A tree
A blossom and fruit
The road that opens like a sunlit journey
And the belief that people can do anything
Once they’ve done it once before
Learning and going
If I could live forever
I would spend my time falling in love
With the world
The pungent smell of ginger
Lemon slices mowed down by a dull blade
The sizzling steam of water
And soy sauce sloshing in the glass bottle;
I cook for myself today
But move with mother’s teaching