Mu, on a street in the Loop

a monk asks Joshu,“Does a dog
have Buddha-nature or not?”
Joshu answers, “Mu”

mu is clamor,  the chaos of cities, Chicago –

            car horns and shouting

                        a distant jackhammer

            sirens fading, but still

mu is passage, a changing mosaic on sidewalks, motion –

             underfoot pigeons

                        their deep-throated coos

            a feathery flight, but still

mu is vision, a reflection of no substance, illusion –

            transition of light

                         the sky on glass towers

            reflection of clouds, but still

mu is silence, the gate of translation, unthinking –

            sore feet on cold steps

                        the ache of accretion

             handing out change to a beggar, but still

mu