faint divine sun dances
between trees and branches
falling upon my fig tree
open my rib, set my heart free.

~and all our fingers,
all our veins,
each are branches of a mission.
and with life we wrinkle,
with age we sacrifice fertile freedom. enlightment keeps us alive
like the nurturing water.
but immortality?
fig is the fruit of realization, as golden wisdom rays bless you, forever.
immortality is
in the wisdom of mysteries.~

fig is a wise man
sitting on a vast, ancient land.
his eyes seem to find something,
in the secrets mist held.

~and you search
all fountains,
all cups,
yet you found it in a lake.
and never,
never so immortal you were,
so thirsty for truth.
fig blessed you,
like the early morning sun rays.
your heart was never so exposed, never so ******,
never so touched...~

under her fig tree.

You can only
Isolate the shadow

If you cast
The light

And as it was, is
And will be

Once you reach
The heaven
You may again want to be
In the hell

There
That strict
Discipline is

Walk along the city streets
butterscotch sky
sun-shower
bittersweet

There on the curbside sits an old painting

A Ballerina

lying with the rest of the trash
waiting to be picked up

The drizzle drains the color from the canvas but not
the natural light from the dancer
who
in all the noise and distortion
forgot her steps
along the way