Skip to main content

Random? (revised)

Random?

none
empty

one
two

Three, six
sixty-four

Stardust from the elders
wraps a delicate living
thread of yarrow.

unnoticed. Powerful. weaving
together the disregarded past
into now.

At harvest they were lemon
green yellow. Coarse to the touch
flexible.

Through my fingers they run, stiff
rose petal soft after two decades of
hard labor.

Fortuity engages serendipity. The
fifty yarrow stalks and my mind
in elegant precision

dance
right hand to left hand and back again.

Synchronizing the treasure of the ancestors
into the now. Assimilated.
Seeding metamorphosis.

Turbulent water above
Calm still mountain below
Thirty-nine

Swift rapids
rushing obstacles

The mountain must
focus
remain still
in active silent watching
ever changing flow.

one

empty
none

Note: The time honored casting of the Yi Jing while typically done with a simple and expedient coin toss, has for thousands of years been done through the manipulation of fifty thin stalks made of yarrow. In the poem the hexagram is number thirty-nine, Water over Mountain. Which can represent challenges and obstacles.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

My Place

Naked             I like rain. There is sublime joy from walking in it. Unique is the passion play between warm, fragrant earth as it opens to receive the powerful spring rainstorm. To me it sounds like homemade Fajitas with peppers, onions and fresh spices sizzling in a cast iron frying pan. There is however, a particular kind rain at the Oregon coast, specifically in Newport Oregon, when wind and rain combine, such that, within a half a mile of the coast that it will rain in a curious sideways fashion. As if the world had been tilted ninety degrees. This horizontal rain has its own beauty, but after three straight days of it, I too was ready for some change. It was, after all, the second week of June. Nearly summer. I was jittery. Jumpy. Though not a coffee drinker, which I know in Oregon, is just plain wrong, but nevertheless, it was like I was on my fifth double mochaccino. Whatever that is. I needed to get out of the hous...
Post a Comment
Read more

For someone special

The song of your voice echos in my heart, each time I say your name. I see two elder tress. Over time we have grown close together, each in our own different part of the Great forest. The leaves and the tiniest of our branches have discovered each other. It will take time for our branches to fully intertwine. I want to savor and enjoy each moment of that with, YOU!
Post a Comment
Read more