Patching The Void
"To the reader"
May your life be without the slightest movement,
Not even the quiver of a leaf.
From inner stillness may the busy-ness of all objects,
Mind and body included,
Be seen to be operating just so; arising and setting.
May an immense emptiness pervade every situation
And rob it of the sting of ownership.
May we be consumed in love alone;
Thoughtless, helpless and adrift in the miracle.
*** *** ***
"Tree Houses"
Most of us live aloft
High in the upper branches
Where nests are built
What daring loops and swoops
The flying squirrels perform
In the forest canopy
Even when flying
We long for the ground
When earthbound
We long for the sky
A free man meets all
Head on
Flying or rooted to the spot
He is in synch
With motion and stasis
The arms of acceptance
Embrace the innumerable worlds
Then all is marvelously well.