Tuesday, October 26

The Myst

The myst. 

Perhaps the myst that surrounds us is our friend. 

A brilliant creation of our own making.

Traveling with us, in each and every moment. 

Stalwart yet tender. Sensitive and tenacious. 

Brightly colored. Chosen with love and care.

Wrapping paper. Not obscuring, nor obfuscating. 

Heightening each moment of discovery. 

Accentuating this joyful precipice. 

As we unravel the mystery. 

The love, that we already are.

Haiku for Fall

Leaves guided to earth
Fall breeze brings colorful paint
Who will count them all

Seconds

Each day I get closer to knowing nothing at all. There is wonder there. Beautiful. Gentle. Like really good home made meat loaf and macaroni and cheese. No knowledge required. Just eat. Enjoy. Go back for seconds.

Rabbits

Boxcars bang louder
Cold air making metal sing
Bells of industry

The rabbits ignore it all
Smart rabbits


Joyfully

Starlight crisscrossing
Delicate paths guide my mind
Slugs march joyfully

There is a season

To every thing there is a season,
to every thing there is a purpose, …

Just in the last minute
at least
an acre of rainforest has been
destroyed.

Are we certain,
so damn
cock sure of ourselves
that in that acre of intense diverse life
lived not the cure for AIDS, or Diabetes
or Breast Cancer?

Perhaps it matters not;
it is forever lost to us.

Just in the last minute
at least
one young person’s life has been
destroyed.

Are we certain
so damn
cock sure of ourselves
that in this youth, of intense diverse life
lived not the cure for AIDS, or Diabetes
or Breast Cancer?

Perhaps it matters not;
that child is forever lost to us.

How many deaths will it take
till we know,
That too many people have died.

It matters to me.

Sacred

Ideas evolve. Life evolves.

No ideas are sacred, however, all life is sacred.