
a slow rain starts,
playing jumbo leaves: nature’s
percussion section

a slow rain starts,
playing jumbo leaves: nature’s
percussion section

city streets
under vaulted dome:
ribbed by rain tree.
I ran into a seeker from far lands,
and asked him what he sought in my hometown.
He said he sought what's true and beautiful.
I asked him if it was here, more than his home?
"Sometimes you have to walk a thousand miles
to find that which resides beneath your nose.
To unlock truth, the tumblers must align
from the shake of experience and time."

Bougainvilleas,
densely blossomed,
nonplussed by rain clouds.
Every source of information is flawed and / or of limited value as a source of truth.
There is beauty everywhere (but to see it one has to let go of one’s compulsion to attach value judgements to everything.)
People who know more things for certain are wrong about more things.
A better life comes of being content with less than of having more.
There is a force, we’ll call it gravity, that keeps my feet to the floor (or insists that I either fall or expend energy to break the surly bonds.)
With respect to that which one can’t know for certain, it’s closer to truth to remain ignorant than to be deluded.
The world that I perceive isn’t the world, itself.
All else being equal, a diverse group of people is stronger, smarter, better looking, and more effective than a homogenous one.
If the same level of effort were put into fostering emotional intelligence as is put into mental intelligence… what a wonderful world it would be.
One who hands you knowledge but tells you to drop it like a hot rock if it doesn’t stand up to your own experience and rationality is more trustworthy than one who hands you knowledge and insists you hold onto it with white-knuckled intensity.
Uh, we are all seeking both. That is the fundamental strain of being human — the struggle between a need for novelty and a need for familiarity. We are all both tribesman and traveler — though in varied proportion. I love the traveler more in my own particular self.

the liquid world
merges with the earth,
and both are one.