A short article Tricycle (The Buddhist Review) on photography and finding your zen, inner peace.
That cabin in the woods,
nestled beneath second generation pine
planted after the last logging,
waits for our visit.
Snow caught in tree-tops
meanders through the winter sky
covering the green roof in a smooth
slope where acorns speed to the ground.
Ravens ever present toward the open fields,
near the old silo base, they rule the open sky
with acrobatics and voices blanketing
the otherwise quiet space.
The nest in the overhang now empty.
Somewhere deep in the woods they watch
with caution and curiosity as the dogs
run circles around that cabin in the woods.
A red cabin in the woods
beneath the pine trees
sagging from the winter snow,
is all I need for solitude.
The black morning hides tall pine trees
rising against the star filled sky.
The silence broken only by the canines response
to the pack of coyotes and their screams.
A heavy mist hugs the wet ground
and stones glistened with the slightest light.
Through the drifting smoke
the scattered sun brings to life the forest
illuminated in halos captured in photos
that will help remember the peace and quiet.
Old growth trees line a worn path cut from loggers decades before.
The floor is covered with fallen needles and moss.
A single white birch exists within the pine trees and glows no matter the time of day.
Red squirrels run up tree trunks and jump to the next branch.
If this is a dream, if this is a reality that is both here and not here, I have found the perfect place. I have perfected the fields I wish to walk within the rest of this life.
But these moments are fleeting and pass like seeds on the easterly wind, carried for distances beyond what we can see, into the realms of the mind and the buried experiences.
How do we unearth and keep alive the existence where we are most happy, where suffering is kept to a minimum?
The light reaches over the tree tops and the forest is flooded with white pulsating energy as I close my eyes and walk into the open arms.
After the smoke clears and unnatural sounds dissipate
the valley, mountains, and river return.
The mountain shadow continues the journey started millions of years before
and the river moves animals and earth further downstream to fertile
lands and eventually to the delta spreading its fingers for miles with
long threads reaching into the sea.
For a moment the clouds pause as birds swarm from the forest
and overtake the sky filled with defined shapes alternating
from grey to pink as the sun has completed another day and makes
its way to the horizon before one last wink says goodnight.
Beyond the clouds there is hope of peace.
Thinking back on the past
I see the signs and guides
more clearly and with more
openness than at the time.
Thinking about where I am now
I plan what future I want,
the reach of my sphere of influence
and the morals I must exhibit.
What I question are the words
thrown to the wind by others,
by shamans and preachers.
By those speaking of truth,
another way to live, of
supposed lies, our blindness
while they pilfer our pockets
and exist in the same state.
What matters most are words and actions
of respect, peace, and unity to those
we love, know, and hold and those
we have never met here.
What matters most are the daily choices
made for ourselves and those around us.
An early morning walk through a November-drenched park with Leroy, Alaskan coffee, and music. As the wind blew hard off the lake, yet the pace was slow and purposeful, I chose “Lost in the Chambers of the Sea”, by Startle the Heavens (Ben Leopard).
Starting off brisk and cloudy, we watched thousands of ducks float upon the water and eat. Hiking through the trees and along another lake, we left the city behind and let nature cradle our spirits and heal our minds. Looking for peace, we found the rising light and a path through the forest.
I looked to the sunset.
I saw your face in the
orange tinged clouds and
now I know what to do.
In the silence I watch the dog
watching with wonder the dragonfly.
Perched on the chair back
translucent wings and red body
conjure images of life before life
when we were single-celled organisms.
I swim the vast sea for days
seeking something I cannot name.
Fueled by hope for tomorrow
to be better than today.