Rocks boulders pebbles
Warm cold wet dry
This one sounds like
Hermes screaming
Under the weight
Of his righteousness
This one I gently place
On the grave
So they can
Hear music
This pile holds ashes
I toss the one with
Your name into
The distance
This one warms my palms
Into a billion shimmering
Breathing floating vibrating
Below the blue is
Merging with the essence
Of my eye
I see



Dualisms, dichotomies
Run away with the human mind
By default.

Pain versus pleasure,
Body versus soul,
Good versus bad,
Energy versus matter.

We lock horns with each other and
With ourselves over
These splits.

Left hemisphere versus right,
Art versus science,
Life versus death,
Black versus white.

We take these distinctions as gospel,
We await one’s victory over the other.
Victory of defeat.

Passengers of time

I am energy imprisoned in a body.
Windows into my soul are
Merely peep holes onto the world.
I am that gracefully gliding hawk,
That tree, vulnerable in its nakedness,
That rising raging river.

The meaning is simple:
We live, we die, we nourish,
Our molecules are recycled into bodies,
Trees, rocks, oil and sapphires.
The meaning is simple: we are
Passengers of time,
In this timeless Universe.

The other 359 degrees

We are newborn kittens,
Eyes glued shut, stumbling, bumping,
Looking for the comfort of mother’s body.

Straight ahead expectations at the expense
Of anything that lies within
The other 359 degrees.

Universe through a key hole,
As if the entire story,
Molds into values.

We are the blind men gathered around
The elephant, each trusting his own truth,
Woefully partial, yet deceptively consistent.

Preachers and scholars alike, Buddha said,
Suffer this failure of imagination.
What do we really know?

Arrogant in ignorance,
Humble in enlightenment,
This truth before any other.