Given to dharmas, my ignorance. (?)
Given to paths crossing, to others leaving one
far cast from the shore, my trust. (?)

No current floats alone in the ocean.

Drop by drop be led,
thanking all the way
each unseen life and silver fish guardian,
towards the veracious
colored ring
forever in the distance,
deep and
deep.

Given to the kalpas, my passion. (!)
Truculent waves of time behemoth
rising from the depths
ripple the surface
and show those that thought you long forgotten
the beauty, in the shallows,
of the sunset broken,
dancing. (!)

In college at JMU
I first study world religions

I later marry a Thai woman
And travel Asia and Europe

Back in the USA
To her I one day say

I haven't been to India yet
But India has come to me

So many neighbors
In Virginia and North Carolina from
The Subcontinent

One day I am driving home
Listening to National Public Radio

An Indian-American man
Is discussing philosophy and religion

The famous meeting in the ancient world
Between Alexander the Great and a naked Indian yogi

What are you doing, Alexander?
I am conquering the world, he says.

You foolish man, says the yogi.
The universe is so utterly vast
Billions and billions of kalpas
Billions and billions of lives
How could you possibly conquer it?

What are you doing, asks Alexander?
I am contemplating Nothingness, says the yogi. You foolish man, says Alexander.  There is only one life.  Why waste it contemplating the Void?

The man finishes telling the story and admits it is inconclusive.  No way to be sure which story to keep on your shelf.

But he ends with a wondrous zinger:

In India, Nothing is permanent.
Not even Death itself.

i don't know
where you went
all these
dusty kalpas.
have we always been as-
This?
I can never know you-
Truly, truly- Mu.
I mean, No.
That is the answer- it would appear so.
Time relents on,
ticking by- ticking by- tick-
YES I checked Kichi, she has none,
Goddess bless!
Anyway, where were we?
You slip past and by-
Gone, Again.
June Jordan said-
Some of Us did not Die.
you- I trust, shall never. No,
as in-
Music for Zen Meditation and Other Joys, 1964, Tokyo.
Yes- I remember!
i, transported elsewhere
altogether.
searching, seeking, seeking
for that blessed,
Goddess-Given
flute.
Ah my Dear,
I hurt at you hurting so.
Time, and again-
Coyote in the Zendo!
Take your time, dearest,
you whisper,
do not grow into bones
that these owls fain
for us to break.  
Take your time,
my Love-
Rest and Relax - O! yes,
do, do!
Where, dearest, shall we
run to, next- Here-
NowHere-
I
HOWL-
ing all the way!
Lunar Meanders
and Spreading the Light of
Darkness-
I open to thee,
Darkness. guide us-
we have need for Poison.
Ah, not always- I am rambling again.
i remember a time,
when you were carrying me in
your tender embrace ,
caressing me
with
A Guide to Fearlessness,
yes- I do not-
know-
and I am nobody too -
Our best ever friend,
Emily the one and True.
We see you, yes,
yes we do.
Ah! not always-
so, there I was,
sitting down, finally.
feeling the separate
dissolve for a split-
ah there I go,
rambling.
anyways, I don't know where I was going with this-
What IS this?
THIS-
is it.
Almost down to the last second now.
Bittersweet learning, guiding with a most
kind hand.
Love, thrown about so strewlessly,
that's not a word, dearest,
you whisper-
neither is any language
to befit a marvelous miracle as
You.
Bah! Poetry!
who needs that when-
She said, No, there is
is
need for poetry.
And i, my dearest
held back a deep tear-
Drama Queen,
hah!
all that is, is metaphor.
yes!
there is only