When I am younger
the doors will open on garden plants
high above my head
and the world, a misty jungle
once again

When I am younger
I will hold the crystal ball
of some fallen marble
stretched out on the living room floor
and make fortunes
for the cat

When I am younger
I will build my castles
of leaves and wooden slats
and every songbird, ant, raccoon
and all their uncles
will be at my banquets
on the low pine tree branch

When I am younger
I will catch the sunlight
in my open hand like falling gold
and release it when the night falls
in the green glow of a firefly
with some television name

When I am younger
I will learn to dry my tears
in the arms of the world
as it sits on the edge of the bed
all-knowing and chestnut-haired

When I am younger
I will knock on the door of your old house
and you will still be there
waiting in the blush
of a late August morning

The hardest part about
the end of a relationship
is knowing that
you don't love
the person you desperately wanted to

The thing I loved about our relationship
is that I could say
*******
and you would kiss me

A big, dark creature is the velvet landscape,
Perforated, so that tiny origins of luminescence
Freckle the breathing mountain’s gently sloped nape
And validates the distant city’s inner flamboyance.

The spine of wet tar, peppered with lustre,
Arcs the creature’s hunch of a back -
It summons me to the city’s sordid muster
To wean me of myself and to render its flak.

Instead, I think I’ll stay on the footed side of the nameless beast
Where I can soak in my tatters and be but my own, homeless priest.

in the garden of earthly delights
green and delicious- fleeting
the pull of the heart and the hand
her voice through the cacophony
the oasis of overflowing eyes
your cup is never empty here
with the soluble fish and the dreamers and the dreaming
delight in the great mystery- surrender
delight in friends and words with heart behind them
eyes and potential lovers
shared dreams and solubility
sacrament in the oasis
the perpetual cycle closes in
take the breathe in and release
let it go-  everything's eventual
the clockwork of the heart
eyes meet in the dark ocean of the undiscovered self
skin is blissful unfolding
breathe into the experience of right now
let go of any idea of what should be and accept what is
say yes to the moment and speaking from the heart
speaking full bodied delight

O Buddha, the gold vein of thy sermon of mercy ran through gloom-gorged, rocky hearts, and illumined their darkness.

Thou loftiest soarer of renunciation's skies, beneath thy God-lifted eyes, the kingdom of sense-comfort, the rivers of gross greed, the vast and lust-scorched deserts of desire, the tall trees of temporal ambition, the cactus plants of prickly world-worries—all melt into invisible smallness.

Buddha, the arc-light of thy sympathy sought to melt the hardness of cruel hearts. Once thou didst save a lamb by offering thyself in its stead.

Thy solemn thoughts still silently roam through the ether of minds, searching for ecstasy-tuned hearts. Seated beneath the banyan bodhi tree, thou didst make a solemn tryst with the Spirit:

    "Beneath the banyan bough,
    On the sacred seat I take this vow:
    Let derma, bones, and fleeting flesh dissolve;
    Until the mysteries of life I solve,
    And receive the all-coveted Priceless Lore,
    From this place I shall stir, never, nevermore."

Thou symbol of sympathy, incarnation of mercy, give us thy determination, that we may seek truth as doggedly as thou didst. Bless us, that we may be awakened, like thee, to seek remedy for the sorrow-throbs of others as we seek it for ourselves.

From: Whispers from Eternity
A Book of Answered Prayers
1949 Edition

You are a ******* tragedy
I don't care
I want to play the female lead.

And a woman who held a babe against her ***** said, "Speak to us of
Children."

And he said:

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts.

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit,
not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you
with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;

For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that
is stable.

It could Satan's cohorts cause, what portly
Political figures earn, to forsake his camp
And anon join the fray to the fat fiscal treasury
Of the country squander; and that to a cramp.
The pay plus pecks in a year they receive
Will most citizens in their lifetime never sniff.


So some who covet crazily such a mega-cheque
Also seek the same office for the easy favours.
Since our paunchy purse will at their own beck
And call be, they thus make elections endeavours
A  dagger thing;--that if they cannot God's gross
Gold get, they must anyhow have the devil's dross.