Do you mourn the wind
As the particles pass by?
Their death brings spring-time…

My mind is a shimmering blade singing with starlight
Forged in a white cloud passing through the sky,
in the light of the moon
Constant and ever changing
Yet lays at rest in a small Shinto shrine deep in the woods
waiting to cut.
My heart is the shadow dancing around in silence during a deep contemplation
With butterflies and rare flowers blowing in the chill wind under the moonlit night
Near an ancient waterfall that whispers your name.
We are not alone in this
Everyone who has a hole in something they cared for has left
holy writs branded and disfiguring the face of tomorrow
Lost in a room full of shattered mirrors
Desperately swimming in a bladed sea for the picture
Only to see a reflection in the pool of blood you made for yourself,
out of yourself,
and your life
...and everyone else's.
Heaven became what you made it.

A white cloud...lost in the wind...
Forever at peace
Flowing waters under the most beautiful sunrise
in a place that lives deep inside
the love you just happen to hold
most dear.
The angels singing when you look at someone's face
A smiling nothingness
That has always been
And will never be.
both human
And divine

I started wearing that necklace again
The one with the little key on it

For the longest time I thought that it was out of place
That it ceased to belong the day I lost the lock

But I started wearing that necklace again
It used to be the key to your heart

But its since unlocked my own

What good’s being right?
I’m never farther from truth
Than in a judgement

Born a reflection
I see a light in your eyes
Primordial burn

Pale shadows of early spring –
a sense of unfolding into fragile hours,
not ours to keep.
White winter days of danger past
and still, that on-going uncertainty.
A word in every drop of crystal breath,
Caught and held a nano-second
and hope running back to a beginning
never found.
A glossy serpent bites its tail
in an endless game repeating itself.
This circle, this oval orb
Empty yet containing all.

Don’t miss your cold love
Miss the warmth you let me feel
About myself —

Standing in the rain
Trying to wash it away —
I’m made of water…

Karma is a friend
Not a judge or a jury --
More like a suchness...