I swing my mala and throw it.
It tears a hole in the fabric of this existence.
The beads disappear one by one.
I follow them,
While reflecting on impermanence.
I recite gate gate paragate
As I evanesce.
Tag: poem
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Drinking Tea As A Young Child (Poem)
I rose before dawn in the late summer.
I sat on the porch outside my room.
The air was still and redolent with the salty musky scent of the bayou.
The bull frogs were still croaking from the night,
The crickets were chirping,
And a few birds had begun their morning calls.
I drank my usual Gunpowder Green in a hand-thrown mug
And realized I must make a trip to New Orleans soon.
I needed more tea.
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Restless Mind (Poem)
How to quiet my mind?
It often seems like a flock of restless birds:
The thoughts dart here and there, as they will.
I breathe and bid them fly away,
Yet they perch to preen and call,
Gently mocking my efforts.
Perhaps the greater wisdom
Says simply to allow the birds
To be as they are
And expand my limited meditation.
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Ethos Of An Incluse (Poem)
This is why I prefer to avoid the hue and cry of crowds.
The surface conviviality of group encounters
Does not come easily to me.
I would far rather engage with one person
And have a brief but meaningful conversation.
I am uninterested in simply oiling the mechanism of polite flow.
Tell me something true and real that matters to you,
Else simply smile (or not) and walk past.
I like that better than chit-chat about the weather.
Unless you are a farmer.
Then the weather is of utmost importance.
I’ve learned to listen, a most useful skill,
And nod and make social-approval noises.
Then I make my way home,
Convinced more than ever
That I am not really human
And merely dwell among you,
Always a stranger in a very strange land.
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Deep Being (Poem)
Layer upon layer upon layer
Faceted as petals
Endless as waves
Infinite in time and space
Breathe in, breathe out
Rest in impermanence
(Inspired By A Piece OF Nancy Garretson’s)
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How To Count (Poem)
How to delineate a life lived?
Let us use not temporal posts of days or years
But limn the finer measure
Of love given and received
Of kindness extended with a free hand
Of compassion shown in minute and larger ways
Of laughter shared with those around.
Choose to see joy
And continue to delight in our communal dance.
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Late Summer (Poem)
This is a time of abeyance,
A lacuna before the coming of fall.
The air shimmers with heat
And the low buzz of insects.
Rainfall offers little respite,
Only plangent noise.
How not to repine
And search for a proem
In cooler nights and darkening days?
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Early Morning (Poem)
Early morning, a liminal time,
When the tenebrific skies seem poised
On some obscure threshold.
The air is quiet;
No birds yet sing to herald the day;
No wind or rain disturbs the transitory stillness.
The moment awaits any assignation of meaning.
For a brief few breaths,
The world is simply as it is.
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The Return (Poem)
My grey-cloaked companion has returned,
Their absence but a brief hiatus.
They have brought the usual accoutrements:
Worsening fatigue and malaise; a restless mind; heightened bodily aches;
And, of course, emotional pain.
I dared not think they would not be back
At some point in time.
But I had hoped to enjoy life a bit longer.
Change is the nature of things, though,
So I will endeavor to face this with equanimity
And continue on my path.
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Peripeteia (Poem)
A slight anticipation, a catching of the breath,
Heralds the moment of great change.
The world tilts, and the possibilities
Open myriad paths.
What lies ahead on any of them?
The only way to know is to proceed.