Two hands clap with sound
Tell us if one hand refrained
What our ears have found?

First a cup is drained
Or by a kettle is drowned
Thus a brain is trained.

Saying not a word
But with silence unattained
How is the truth heard?

A sea of regret
Holds a single stone to clench
By a hand not wet.

As the shore they reach
How many sunset waves quench
On Rialto beach?

Is the flag blowing,
Or to a breeze does it cling?
Minds seek in knowing.

Wind brushes my face
It smells of jasmine in spring
Of colors no trace.

The kōans renew
Changing shape to find their place
As transformed haiku.

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© 2023 by Dean Jen

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Rialto Beach: A Study in Zen, is posted in 3 parts:
Rialto Beach (A poem about kōans)
Rialto Beach Reprise (A reflection of the poem)
Rialto Beach Coda (A reflection of the reflection)