Sitting Zazen Before a Snowstorm

Snow-flooded scape
so deep
I lose myself in
vast expanses
of never-ending white--
a hollow ghost
in heaven's robes

So many forget the quiet joy
of shoveling snow,
They shatter
white silent sanctuary
with snow-blowers
when they could follow
the delicate song
of snowflake falling
on snow

Or they tear apart lake's quiet
with motor boat blades
Instead of becoming entranced
in paddle rhythm,
spirit mirroring sky

Looking out my window,
Everything gone--
white merging with white