Japan a great stone garden in the sea. Echoes of hoes and weeding, Centuries of leading hill-creeks down To ditch and pool in fragile knee deep fields. Leafy sunshine rustling on a man Chipping a foot-square rough hinoki beam; I thought I heard an axe chop in the woods It broke the dream; and woke up dreaming on a train. It must have been a thousand years ago In some old mountain sawmill of Japan. A horde of excess poets and unwed girls And I that night prowled Tokyo like a bear Tracking the human future Of intelligence and despair.   Gary Snyder   Riprap