I finally got it, got Zen, thanks to Matsuo Basho, Haiku master of and for all time. Zen is the eternal captured in the moment. The simple conveyed by the complex. It is the power by which haiku, that uninterruptible conscientious brief burst of words, implies all forms, all poems.
Basho was a wonderer and a teacher in 17th-century Japan. He wrote the quiet, contemplative words below, my favorite of which are “temporal,” “adequate,” “holes,” “windblown,” “composed.” Oh, but also of course, “resides,” “spirit.”
On their own the words are good, but it is by their effortless combination that they become great. Therein, the Zen.