The Strength of Serenity

Wishing and praying alone will not transform your mind; you also need reason—reason ultimately grounded in your own experience.- Dalai Lama

Older a child,

Looks no longer to

The flower

but instead sees the bee

and with the bee chases


His steps follow as long as he can

only to let go what he cannot hold in the palm of his hand

The scent of the rose is gone.

The day comes and so does the night

Sleep and a waking

Another bee and another flower

The child picks up his feet

Picks up his shoes and places them at the door

He calls home

And stares down the stairs

And awaits the comfort away from the play

She comes home an hour later

His face is muddy with delight

A door opens

A welcome wipes the exterior

and departs an evening, to open up later,

the next day, to a vast road to follow

Shoes are tied

Hands bound forward in pockets

And change jingles

the sound connects the foots steps

The sound of the bell connects the dream

The study makes the work

The work makes the man

The foot steps heavier

The comfort is gone

Brutal and Short

A Howl

The moon climbs to where the fingers point

A readily made object

To object

A mirror dream rowed boat ashore

A small fox wets its tail

The pack catches up

The dogs bark

And the waves lap the shore

Ferried on with word and sound

Carried like a fish on a hook

Love knows its bound

Beyond fascination

to the point where the recognition

places correctness

in a sacred pause.


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