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FOUR HAIKU
the morning dew smilesthe rising sun stares deeplylater a merger the egret stands fixedwishing he was a statuethe rippling pond laughs clouds blacken the skythe sun plays hide and go seekwe watch patiently. winter is lurkingbut swaying palms reject itit retreats northward
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HOLY
The sun slowly climbsup onto the mountain’s minaretand announces the call to prayer.The waves in the quiet Lakedip their heads watching treeswith the reverence reserved for morning.The loon sits on the altarand intones the sermon, the wavesstilling for a moment, then ebbing into the day.
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STARING
He liked nothing betterthen to sit outsidehis small cottageand stare into the pondonce the blaze on the waterset by the sun was consumedas fire must always be by water.As night deepened, he staredinto the sky, seeing the moonslowly rise, chasing alongthe sun’s now deserted path.He knew the myriad of starsshared his interest, staringbut he abandoned…
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BARDLESS
Laertes was supposed to visit mein my dreams last night,but Iago texted that they bothwere suddenly otherwise engaged. There is a strong possibility, of coursethat this was just another instanceof Marlowe trying to wreak havocwith my ever more precious sleep. Tomorrow I will recall none of thisfor the day ereases my dreamsmuch as the sun…
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THE SUN ROSE
The sun rose this morning,as if the day were not in anyway out of the ordinary, daynumber far too large to countfor those with finite capacity. The birds begin, their harmoniouscacophony, though they thinkit their lauds, matins of reflectionburned off with the dew underthe gentle glare of a morning sun. They watch us begin to…
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INTIMATIONS OF MORTALITY
It is easier to think about deathon a wintery evening, when so muchof life slips into stasis, and there isnothing to do but concede your mortality,and with good fortune, then slipinto sleep before being lostin a sea of depression. I must be thankful for my dreamsfor they keep the night from becomingthe little death of…
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SEPPO SEES HIS NATURE 鐵笛倒吹 三十四
Do not imagine yourselfShravaka or Boddhisatvanor ask the Masterif his reflection isthe fullest moon or bright sun. Both stick and slapawaken youand clear your sight. The Master’s eyesare blind to youand your reflectioncan only be seenby looking within. A reflection on case 34 of the Iron Flute Koans.
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SHARING
It wasn’t exactly what you wanted, butyou probably wouldn’t have been all that upset.It was all about you, but not for you, thatcomes later, and we know you’ll be pleased.This one was for some of us who needed thisto be able to keep going, to keep from lookingonly back, into the darkness that is our…
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TUESDAY TRUTH: THE SPIDER
Several things you need to understand. First, and foremost, a waterspout is a term no one around here has used in centuries, unless you mean a tornadic columnar vortex of water, and trust me, we spiders avoid those like the plague. Shocking, I know, but with eight legs we cannot swim. At best some of…
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NIGHT
In the end, it always comes down to night, regardless of the moon, if any, it’s faint light drowned by the city’s oppressive glow, headlights, streetlights and once, spotlights painting the sky, traceable down to that new place we don’t wish or can’t afford, would never dare to go. Death is omnipresent, his shadow is…
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an old writer and his words 