Grisons – Chur – Zen Meditation – Far down into the tide dips the light, turning once more to the mountains!

Prayer

I was standing on a mountain when I suddenly heard serious, gloomy songs singing on the left. It was a sacrifice for the earth again, I well knew the dull ringing of the bell. On the right I saw a suckling bring. Like a butterfly's colorful plumage, many merry ribbons waved up and down, a little bell almost wanted to burst with joy. No creature dared to disturb the devotion. The herds stood still on their pastures, the pines whispered like pious prayers.

As if the bells were embracing each other, the two of them, soon I could only hear a sweet sound. And no longer distinguish between life and death. All clouds went over sea. And the birds soar like laughter over distant lands. Only King-Ting, the pointed mountain, and the dwarf Li-tai-pe are constant, standing, towering steadily.

Zen Meditation - Chur- Grisons

Far down into the tide dips the light, turning once more to the mountains, sending a glow to their alpine flowers. Since it is already dark in the valley, butterflies are still fluttering here. And the last ray of the sun shines brightly on their wings. Hark, a blackbird strike from the forest! How strange and faded away it echoes in the high day from the deep twilight. Why do I ask about the people and the noisy city when the mountain forest wilderness, the white silence, has me.

The beech trunks are so black in the white snow, the buzzard is looking for its sleeping tree. The deer is on the field. The fox is basically barking, the owl won't rest, the evening wind stirs the branches, the snow keeps falling. The lights are twinkling in the valley, what do I care about their shine, I stand up on the slope and stay to myself.