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Why did we meet?
Was it chance or timing?
That morning you tried to trot
through the crosshairs of my headlights
before you bounded off in flight.
First time,
naïve to this side of things,
rewinding my life into slow motion,
like a zen koan.
No thought
of future or past,
contradiction or contrast.
Just awareness,
that didn’t expect,
only hoped……I
might…….Survive.
(...)
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Invoked by the eternal Om
strange attractors
attract from a sea
of infinite possibility
Mutual arisings emerge
out of parallel pasts
Each arising a note
on a chromatic scale
Actualizing potentiality
Metaphors of becoming
reflect one another through
a process of relationship
between is and is not
In manifestation
time celebrates the rise
and fall of individual waves
Out of discordant rhythms
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Lost on a misty mountaintop
chasing Hyakoju's fox
distant vistas unclear
draws presence to what's near
an alpine flower
breathes through
the early morning dew
Child,
denied your rights at the family
dinner table of Horatio Algers
rags to riches fable,
heard your anger the other night
in the sounds of her cries,
the banging on the walls
coursing through apartment halls.
Spotted the fear in her eyes,
tears she could not hide
as she ran by my opened door.
Shocked to the core, powerless,
didn’t know what to do
to break up this family dispute,
knowing all you been through.
What? With my hands stained red
by the blood that you shed
when you were beaten for being different?
If I called the police,
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Expecting experience
to match up to dreams
I echo my expectations
always seeking to be
who I am
like an origami boat
tossed and turned
down the flow of a stream
broken dreams lying around
keep me in a trance
disengaged from the dance
of the eternal now
see me as I wish to be seen
an image self created
self perpetuated in longing
for a cup
half empty,
never full
Witnessing another side of life
Feeling it in my bones
Remembering what I left behind
Didn’t ask to die alone
Want to forget I keep on dying
a little more every day
but in winds of fate, no denying
The toll we all got to pay
This body, a wilting flower
Will I rise to see the dawn?
Clock ticks toward witching hour
With so much undone
Released from this limbo world
a light shines through the doorway
Shades of this passing side show
fade into the rain
Pouring myself some burgundy wine
Into this cup of bitterness
A couple sips to quiet this troubled mind
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A symphony of violin
strings vibrate.
The bustle buzz of a housefly
rattles and hisses up the windpipe.
Internal schisms
project a cadence
in rhythm.
In spaces between
a flock of birds
convert to
subjects and verbs;
clothing the suchness of things
with butterfly wings,
seeding the garden
with meaning.
Unity denied,
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Clear as a mirror
at dawn reflecting
a rising sun.
Early morning breeze
ripples across being
awakening to storm clouds
gathering upon the horizon.
Wind picks up speed
whipping white caps
swirling to motion.
Rhythms increase with the fever
of a tabla drummer
throbbing to rhapsodic rapture
sending waves clashing,
trespassing different
modes of manifestation.
Sky darkens
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Dreamed of a mourning dove's
call, 'who are you? Who? Who?'
Wind echoes through the trees.
Through an open window
these eyes behold
pinches of wisdom
sprinkled on a poem.
Rewinding the road
separating work from home,
it's settings betwixt and between.
Rehearsing for the stage,
I turned into a dream,
reflecting:
'an image is not easy to create,
but once made, difficult to break,
effecting our roles, what to uphold,
what we let go.'
Coming home,
thoughts of being alone,
turned off the radio, t.v.
and the telephone.
No expectations,
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