A jutting rock
splits the river,
diverging streams
never wither,
but speed around --
smoothly flowing,
still gaining speed --
never slowing,
until they reach
the deeps.
The Deeps [Lyric Poem]
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A turtle swims to water's edge,
and finds before him a steep bluff.
He makes himself a solemn pledge,
"I'll scale this cliff, however tough!"
Struggling over the toilsome rim,
he sees another wall of stone
stands just ahead - tormenting him.
"Just one more, I'll not piss and moan."
If he could know that it was stairs,
He'd have some turtle curse words to share.

The train is speeding down the line.
Gold Buddha glints in the sunshine.
Jarring is the train whistle’s whine,
we plunge into a dark tunnel.

So many hills I have seen
That grow so soft and thick and green.
Though jagged rocks sit down below
The grass and shrubs and weeds that grow
Through cracks and gaps, in mud patches --
Sprawling wide from tight-knit batches
That stone cannot constrain or kill.

Let the flood sweep
one away — out
of the shallows,
into the deeps.
Don’t ever cry;
Don’t ever weep;
Just feel the speed
Carry one on.

Rainy December day
blows in - not long to stay.
From season to season,
without any reason,
sometimes we feel the fray.

The chill is here.
The sky never
bluer.
The colors turn,
with leaves ever
fewer.
Until a last
hanger-on yields
to a weak breeze.
There once was a man from Austria
prone to coffee house nausea.
“Our cafés are held dear,
but I can’t go near…”
said that lonely, skinny man of Austria.
There was a famed Georgian vintner
who thought about wines all winter –
as he thought, he drank,
and -- let us be frank –
he became less vintner than drinker.