From decay and ugliness.
There is a beauty.
That still rises from the stillness.
Old houses.
Whistling in memories.
A dried leaf.
Still with veins from a past life.
A narrow pathway.
Humming a blue tune.
A bare branch.
Now home for
the autumn crows.
In a moment of solitude.
I see it all.
Nothing is perfect.
Nothing is ever finished.
And nothing lasts.
Such beauty scattered everywhere.

When despair
attained new heights.
Half wrecked and crinkled.
Who was there?
Nobody.
Just me and a butterfly.
Stretching out from the centre.
In my minds eye.
Everything was clear.
Life is enough.
Until the day it ends.
​

Morning and evening.
When the moments come.
It is a time to live.
The height of the sky.
The depth of the earth.
Reveals everything
I need to know.
That the seasons never cease.
And one day I will be dust.
So, I should not let
a single moment pass.
Without seeking the
courage to be happy.
Nor shed too many
bottomless tears.
Before I arrive in a
place of sadness.

Death comes.
In impressive ways.
Sometimes it gathers and swells.
Sometimes it just arrives.
All the more reason
to dance with
the winds of winter.
And sit with the
lotus flowers in summer
Living, dying, coming, going.
One day I’ll breathe my last
So, today I will
savour the rice and tea.
And everything in-between
Until I have no further
business in this world.

Against the odds
I am here.
A single step.
A single word.
There is always a way.
to dispel the darkness.
Everything passes,
like a river flowing.
And the tangled
tapestry of the sky
Is no more than
a trick of the mind.
On the days when
the wind blows.
I remind myself that the
moonlight, and the sunlight.
Also leak into my mind.
And if I choose to
allow this to happen.
There is nothing to fear.
I just sit with life.
Me and life.
Until only life remains.
​

Day after day.
Lifting the sky.
My body is tired.
But not my mind.
With ordinary
uncomprehending eyes
I see what is.
The days turn westward
and eastward.
Then to the north and south.
And all the time.
No more that vain desire.
Deep in the heart
and soul of things.
​

I think there are few
things in life that
have any shape,
until you apply it.
All I need to do
is to find a switch.
Then, I can practice
a plain virtue with no-mind.
And with practice,
the dark clouds disperse
and the world seems wider.

I made awareness
and honesty my home.
It was, and is not easy.
And still, I have no strategy.
Nor do I seek a truth, or two
Only nodding to myself.
Learning to be an
ordinary man – who
completes his work.
For this how I see the way.
No more than this.

Standing outside.
I see the world as it is.
Nothing else comes to mind.
The world I see
doesn’t lack much.
Just an understanding
of the blooms in our mind.
That bring on the dark winters.

Our lot.
That is the way it is.
Some are lost
in a sharp life.
Waiting for tomorrow’s
dawn to break them.
Within this space
I can certainly feel
strong and alive.
As though springtime
has come once again.
There is no darkness
where the mind does not go.
In the great sum of
things, everything ends,
Scattered on the earth
and leaving very little trace.
A fitting end, I think.