-
On “Dualism”
I am reading the “Cultivating the Empty Field” for the second time, and also Dogen’s “Moon in a Dewdrop”. From this perspective I have been working to understand Dualism and Nondualism. In a nutshell, here are my thoughts, and I want to see if I am even close to understanding the basic concepts. In Nondualism: 1.…
-
Poem – The Wheat Fields
Sun through skeleton trees illuminates the tall grass with a golden tone. The alfalfa is blooming. Autumn’s harvest moon rising against a backdrop of scattered orange and wavering purple. The warring people have drawn a line, and promised to not cross into the wheat fields, promised not to trample this sanctuary where the children play.…
-
Every End Leads to a Beginning
The last day of September leads quietly into October. Summer takes one last swipe before fall takes the reins. The afternoon sun is bright and unfiltered – adding a golden glow around each leaf and blade of grass. Every ending, marks the beginning of something, a continuation perhaps of the previous story, or a fresh…
-
Poem for Northography – Tag
A response to the most recent writing prompt at Northography. http://www.northography.com/responses.php?stimulus_id=289 I returned to the fields of the childhood I left behind. Rows upon rows of corn stretching forever and above our heads as we ran looking behind, ahead all around; each stalk that moved could mean we were tagged, and our turn to chase each…
-
Summer, morning walk
An early morning walk in the calm and cool air. Before the paths and sand become too hot, there is a peace holding each grain, each branch, and each creature that stirs. Shadows leap from treetops to limbs. The lake is flat and hugs the shoreline closely. The sun wavers in the canopy as a…
-
Poem – Snowy Field
Across the snowy field no footprints. Streetlights brighter further the sun sinks. Cold begins to creep in upon the winds back. Ice pellets tiny and hard against our shielded eyes. In the midst of winter I begin to understand. The sky above the great wind blows. Truths of times passage unaware of past, present, future.…
-
Poem – Ravaged
an empty road cuts various swaths through empty, arid fields until it stops. an object prostrated exactly where the road ends, the fields border. this impasse familiar, repeated. beyond the body unknown landscape or wasteland. disconnected, detached we watch events unfold. again. unaware of the role we play. a vulture descends from nowhere wrapped in…
-
Poem – Fire, #1
The gathering around the stone circle Each tells a story in turn and the others listen closely, intently. Silent agreement with folded hands, clear hooded minds and the thickening smoke pushes each inside with eyes closed. I peer through the smoke at the blackening sky concealed by city lights and city of industries. What is…
-
Empty Fields, 1
I must transcend beyond here, beyond everything I have done. I am walking lost around this infinite plane. The gods are ever watchful. Their past ever following and hiding when I turn. At times I reach further and see the next level before my past grabs my legs and pulls me back to this field…