the guru wrote a haiku whenever an image struck him. one day, he saw an acorn fall into the lake, and he wrote this:
the quiet old lake–
an acorn falls from a tree
and it makes a splash
the next day, he was struck by the image of that haiku, and he wrote a haiku about that:
yesterday’s haiku
captures a moment of #zen
in just a few words
and the next day, he was struck by the image of that haiku, so he wrote a third:
each haiku inscribes
one that is even grander–
like acorn ripples
