These frozen berries for my breakfast this morning made me think of master Hanshan and his poems from the cold mountain.
“Men ask the way to Cold Mountain,
There’s no through trail,
In summer, ice doesn’t melt,
The rising sun blurs in swirling fog,
How did I make it?
My heart’s not the same as yours,
If your heart was like mine You’d get it and be right here.”
[>The cold mountain poems<, translated by Gary Snyder (1958)] [Follow this link for more poems from the cold mountain on wikiquote]