Mountain Viewing Notes

The green and black ancient jade is broken, and the soul falls into the southern mist. The hermit holds the lamp, and the spiritual tea has been brewing for sixteen years. The charm of the Tao is hidden in the swaddling clothes, and the words "Shou Xin" are carved into the bones and blood. Stepping on the moonlight of a thousand years, drinking all the wind and dew of the Six Dynasties, hiding in the wells of the palace market, practicing the way in the secret realm and dangerous places. The clear light on the fingertips can wash away the turbidity, but it does not disturb the mundane cycle of reincarnation; in the heart, thoughts of hometown are like a tide, but I can't find the coordinates of my return. The nine-tailed fox accompanies the shadow, the deep valley serves as the anchor, the eyes of the hermit hide unsaid secrets, and the coolness of the ancient jade reflects the incomprehensible journey home. The torrent of time carries the joys and sorrows of separation and reunion, and the road is long covered with mist and clouds. What is return? What is Tao? Perhaps a thousand years of searching is just a matter of keeping a clear thought. When the clouds clear and the fog clears, the destination of my heart is my hometown.