I meditate on a green meadow

Like a wildflower, freely settling down

The forest before me ripples with dark green waves
Distant snow-capped mountains, carrying years of white
Wildflowers adorn my knees
They are the beads of prayer secretly offered by the earth

The scent of grass, wafting past my nose
Is pure, with a touch of morning dew
The wind brushes my skin, cool and refreshing
Like Sanskrit chants sweeping over the dust in my heart

Sunlight falls gently, warm and tender
Kissing my eyelids, caressing my relaxed brows
Warm and cold embrace in this moment
Like the opening and closing of the universe in Zen

I sit quietly in meditation, seeking nothing, questioning nothing
Watching the forest in silence, the snow mountains unspoken
Wildflowers sway gently in the wind

It turns out that “Vāṇī”
Is never a distant verse
It is the fragrance of grass filling the breath
It is the embrace of wind and sunlight
It is me and this mountain wilderness
Together, returning to the silent completeness