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You ask me why I should work in my garden, building a temple.
You who come storming from Chungsan with battle in your eyes.

Attend then:
Whereas the impulses of all creatures diverge,
As also their conception of the world,
Though only one world exists;

Whereas no man can own to the current vision of the world
Or knows whose impression is truest, since minds differ,
Or which colour is the true colour, since eyes differ,
Or even the proper taste of a wine, since palates differ;

Whereas it could be said that all are right;
That the Universe is the thing that appears
To each individual creature,
Being different things to different men,
Taking its colour from their feelings alone;

Granting however that all being could exists
Without the need for men to perceive it
(There was a world before we were born
And doubtless it will be there after we are gone):

Whereas I apprehend the Universe to have one
Essential nature, which we see dimly
And partially, being able only
To gather knowledge with limited faculties,

Conscious that we ride three parts blind
On the saddle of the Universe, fully discerning
Neither the whole nature of it, nor even of ourselves.
Unable to master the structure of things
Or their reasons, doubtful of our own impressions,
So often wholly wrong, never wholly right –

Whereas in this country of many images the fool is often wisest
And all the schools grope bewildered,
Unable to make sense of the little they know,
Reporting nevertheless that they discern patterns, that not all is chaos –
Representing that they have found consensus on certain points,
That somewhere (could they but see the road)
There may be an essential order, or even a
Moving purpose, majestic, totally silent;
And since purpose can spring only from intelligence
And intelligence argues a creative mind, however ineluctable,
Now therefore my sons and I have elected to walk most tenderly through the Universe,
Looking before and behind, and shall
Continue to cultivate poetry and gardens,
And erect temples in the deep places of the gardens,
Regarding one another with veneration, as creatures
Who may be more than they seem;
Creatures who may in time gaze openly on what is hidden
From Master Kung himself, who knows of such matters;
I mean the vision of that same silent Mind.

In token whereof, though not professing to knowledge,
We work here without clamour
Building a temple, and singing quietly
As if in the presence of such a Mind;
That if the Mind should take form and walk in the Garden,

We of this place will have done the honour due
To such a Guest.

© Colin Bailey