On the cusp of sleep, night’s gravity weighs on the body. The mind cannot escape. There is a bend in the road to dreams that I cannot see past. Suddenly you are at the door. I answer. And we are outside, in the forest near your old house. When I awake, I am in bed and realize I was dreaming of you again.
“Description of a Dream, Sent to Monk Miaoyi”
The Hall of Wondrous Thoughts is deep along the winding road;
Night comes, and all at once my dream-soul clambers up and out;
When you open the gate, we greet one another
As if we were in the emerald fog of a bamboo grove.
– Daoqian (1043-1114) from Canliaozishiji fascicle seven
[From the project, “Poet-monk: Daoqian”]