When I pass on this life will have been
Turbulent,
But sweet,
Not concrete
Like my poems:
Not perfect,
Yet complete
With stubborn attitude
I will have competed
With probability,
With humble gratitude
I will have submitted
To inevitability,
I will look back and see
My legacy,
Fulfil the prophecy
To repeat my destiny
To exist temporarily
And face
Uncertainty
Till I flee
Time and become
Eternity.

You practice non-attachment
Yet you  wouldn't want to do
Without water.
You let water own you like a lotus leaf
You allow it to hold you in its never ending cul-de-sac
Flowing between the total bliss of nirvana
And the joy of samsara.
You practice non-attachment to desire
Yet you're wanting
Desiring
Craving
Water. Ponds. Lakes. Streams. Seas
Your thirst is inextinguishable
Wild awake rain
And as you drink that unquenchable flood
Your lips are watering springs,
Sipping fountains of primordial tears.

The cell phone rings once
But the ringing in my head…
...The sound of your voice

after painfully separating
the colors in intricate patterns
she allows herself the full glimpse
of her daily labors. and without
hesitation brushes the dry earth,
along with her work.

her long fingers unfurling,
the long and brittle parts
breaking into sand.

7 November 2018

The warm autumn breeze
         scatters the leaves
     like spring  snowflakes
      I carefully hand stack
        them each by color,
              one by one,
           as if they were
          befallen dreams
                     or
      similarly unholdable
               gathered
      garnered memories
                      •
        each leaf touched
             reminds me
       of how many times
          I've had to let go ―
         how many times  
                I've fallen
     without a place to land
   until the winds of change
         drew me back up
               as if I were
   evanescent autumn leaves,
      to be swept away again,
         touched by the spirit
             the true nature
                  of  love
                      • •        
        sown seeds of one love
           bestrewn hopefully,
             thusly cast about
              just as intended,  
   the grain and chaff together,
     sifted by the velvet breath
        of the samsara wind's
              sanguine touch

                     •  •  •
            

  autumn waters ... October 29, 2017

How I feel the time tighten
The temporal noose tickles my throat
Swaying in the nothingness
I do so crave of late

How many hours in the day
Must I conjure the joker
Just in the nick
To salvage my neck
From fate herself?

Why wait for the sand to drop?
When grains of pure ambrosia
Are clustered in the crystal shard
I so wish to crush
For all to feast on what has passed

Dispersed in the ocean of tranquility
I may rest awhile from test of metal
This trivial mental ordeal
Will kaleidoscope the stars

You will breathe me then
Will be closer and complete
This drip feed of love is not enough
So I plead to be defeated

It drowns me in waves of notions
That I should sign myself as absent
Until the indefinite motion
Of the universal spin frees me
From the karmic balance of things

Like this I do see this branch trimmed short
Stunted and pruned before the ripe
With this contorted hope
I may become the light
That I am when I soar in my dreaming

Yet I wake breathing bound by fleshy bonds
So dull in the spectrum of ****** sadness
I confess it is time to end this mess
Let the prophecy contemplate timing

Until that shiny moment
I will sigh and play along
To the tormenting throng
That beckons my presence here
For one day longer

For just one day longer
I will be strong
I will pretend what I feel
Is proven wrong by living reason

Until my patience depleted
Will unmask what we believe
Of this carnal marathon
Racing on the wheels of Samsara