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A Clap Of Thunder (Poem)
The deep tone of a singing bowl fades away.
A man lifts his head to hear, exhales, and is no more.
A woman pauses her moans, inhales, and gives birth.
The rain falls steadily, and this road flows with water.
Death juggles skulls, as reality itself fractures and cracks.
All below, hand in hand, dance in and out of life.
The wheel of sharp weapons turns, turns, and turns again.
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Dirt (Poem)
I cannot measure this suffering.
The distance from my outstretched arm to my nose tip
Does not suffice,
Nor can I hold it cradled in my hand.
At times it fills the entire world,
Though I know that it is just a speck of dirt.
Let me throw it to the ground,
There to join all the other debris,
The gathered soil of wars, famines, and plagues
But mostly the common loam of everyday wear.
Life after life after life this is what remains,
Yet we return to dig again in the muck.
In ignorant wonder we hold up our muddied hands,
As if we have no memory that this earth is part of us.
My tears leave black streaks on my face,
And I cannot catch myself as I fall.
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Death Meditation (Poem)
Lay down on the verdant hillside.
This is also a grave.
As you spread out your limbs,
Light runs from your fingers and toes
To intertwine with tree roots.
These glowing threads bind you to the earth,
Together with sun’s slanting rays
Filtered through the branches overhead.
Beneath you scarabs move in the dirt,
Tapping down a deathwatch
With a promise to turn your bones to gold.
Fear not and still your mind.
Death and life are one and the same.
A soft breeze flows over the grass.
Bird sing their melodious song.
This day will never end.
