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Stephe Watson
Poems
Oct 2018
Seedhulls of Nothing
A hush envelops
(or is hunted down, demanded)
A particular general stillness outlasts
the here-and-there leavings and goings of
everywhere
else
The crunch, familiar always
and always, somehow unfamiliar
of buckwheat hulls...
I sit.
The world's exhalations
my inspirations -
inbreaths of trunk and mouth
inbreaths also of xīn (心)
The headhome of the mostly-me,
like November waters,
phase-changes from
finicky fluid
to quiet, cooler tumultless
ice which, oddly melts the heart
And soon, and soon
(or longer, yes usually longer)
the phase becomes sublime
And then
and yes, and then
(and, yes and only then)
and all at once...
nothing.
From my "Old Meditator" series.
Reflecting from the Now on the Then...
A Taoist possibly lamenting Buddhism.
#ZhanZhuangZazenAKACatchingSomeZZZs
#zhanzhuangzazenakacatchingsomezzzs
Written by
Stephe Watson
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