WHAT IS IT NOW, PILGRIM?

It is far past time that I
went on a pilgrimage.
I’m not at all sure just what sort
of a pilgrim I’d likely be.
As a now Buddhist child
of the late 60’s, the Plymouth Colony
model clearly isn’t workable.
And in my own late 60’s, now
with a fused spine and creaky
knees and shoulders, foreign travel
looks less and less of an option.
I’ve long since given up acid
and mescaline, and I never got
the hang of astral projection,
so perhaps I need to think smaller
and just wander over to my local
wine shop for a couple of bottles
of a decent Rioja and Galicia
and dreams of the Camino de Santiago.

ROYA’S MOUNTAINS AND RIVERS

If I ask you
to look out the window
and tell me what is there,
what will you say?
If you say there are trees
and a house in the distance,
I will tell you
to tell me what is there,
not what you mind creates.
If you again tell me
there are trees and
in the distance a house,
I will walk away,
for you have given me
only words and that
for which I asked.


A reflection on Case 100 of the Book of Equanimity

MIRRORED

It isn’t the seeing of something
that matters, for what is seen
was there to be seen so seeing
is just its natural consequence.
It is only when you label it, give
it a name that it ceases to exist,
for you at least, for at that moment
what exists is the label and no longer
the thing that was labeled, so
language always keeps us
from experiencing life, renders us
observers of the things we
no longer co-experience.
It is much like looking in the mirror
and imagining you see yourself
when all you see is the polished
surface of the glass, and while
you may be many things, we
are reasonably certain that
reflective glass was never one of them.