Studying the wrinkled lines
of elder poems
on the topic of
the Four Directions;
however;
the poetics of
haunting bards
and mossy sage
always
spiral
back
to the
acorn of the heart
In this infinity;
a piney cabin
resides
inside a bamboo
forest
and Wonder,
She
sits cross-legged
below the
river rock hearth;
warming her palms
against the
irregular downbeat
of snapping flames
“North, South, West and East;
Trust the Wise Arrows
Aiming True
from Your Heart's
Quiver.”
Sep 16, 2020
Sep 16, 2020 at 8:49 PM UTC
Studying the wrinkled lines
of elder poems
on the topic of
the Four Directions;
however;
the poetics of
haunting bards
and mossy sage
always
spiral
back
to the
acorn of the heart
In this infinity;
a piney cabin
resides
inside a bamboo
forest
and Wonder,
She
sits cross-legged
below the
river rock hearth;
warming her palms
against the
irregular downbeat
of snapping flames
“North, South, West and East;
Trust the Wise Arrows
Aiming True
from Your Heart's
Quiver.”
Pondering the Inner Compass; our Heart space and the infinite wise sage that resides within.
