I see those serene figures sit
amid Zen Garden evergreens.
Like Benkei, they don't move a whit,
Their minds are free of thoughts & dreams.
The moss is growing on them, now,
and birds have left their fecal splat.
Don't envy how they've found the Dao,
but how they have no need of hats.
They in their cruel traps, and we in ours,
Survey each other's rage, and pass the hours
Commiserating each the other's woe,
To mitigate his own pain's fiery glow.
Man could but little proffer in exchange
Save that his cages have a larger range.
That lion with his lordly, untamed heart
Has in some man his human counterpart,
Some lofty soul in dreams and visions wrapped,
But in the stifling flesh securely trapped.
Guant eagle whose raw pinions stain the bars
That prison you, so men cry for the stars!
Some delve down like the mole far underground,
(Their nature is to burrow, not to bound),
Some, like the snake, with changeless slothful eye,
Stir not, but sleep and smoulder where they lie.
Who is most wretched, these caged ones, or we,
Caught in a vastness beyond our sight to see?
the mountain trail rounds
from shady to sunny side,
where caves line the path.
It was a dreary winter day;
The world was cold, monotone gray.
But then, I caught a hint of heat:
Felt on my face, not on my feet.
A furnace burned in a dark place.
I felt it flush my frigid face --
Frigid once, but not any more
I stood inside that foundry's door.
The orange glow danced on my face.
It must have shown demon's disgrace.
Like a poor creature lit on fire,
Or the living dead on a pyre.
Cold as the day and my feet were,
I heard a voice - just a whisper.
"You must flee now, or you'll jump in,
and they'll not find a fleck of shin."
Before me lies a mass of shapeless days,
Unseparated atoms, and I must
Sort them apart and live them. Sifted dust
Covers the formless heap. Reprieves, delays,
There are none, ever. As a monk who prays
The sliding beads asunder, so I thrust
Each tasteless particle aside, and just
Begin again the task which never stays.
And I have known a glory of great suns.
When days flashed by, pulsing with joy and fire!
Drunk bubbled wine in goblets of desire,
And felt the whipped blood laughing as it runs!
Split is that liquor, my too hasty hand
Threw down the cup, and did not understand.
With a pack on my back,
I lurched out of the known.
Would I ever be back?
Or go where I was blown?
Who can know where they'll land?
Maybe on a distant shore?
Or amid desert sands?
Or mountains? Or next door?
That's the joy of a life;
One can end up anywhere.
Embrace chaos sans strife,
And you'll live a life that's rare.
autumn breezes
send dry leaves tumbling, but for
one heavy rebel.
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life, and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
snow falls
all night long,
silently piling.
i awaken
to a place
unrecognizable
as the one
in which i took to slumber:
the world's detail erased...
temporarily.
