A journey home,                                    life rushing by with
New Order and                                      LCD Soundsystem –
a calming of the mind.
Self-advances and            confirmations sit with me.
A dark path on a dark path,        coming between me
and inner illumination.

How shall I escape?
When I lay among the                            coals and ashes,
and clay is formed?
Or when heaven                                      and earth are one,
a oneness of mind and body?
This is it, this is it!

Walking through this world,
you will see where                                  we all soon will be.
Stainless as a clean night,
impervious to wind, cold or rain
and left alone…..
to ask the waning sun, to stay.

In their faces,
a worldly life
not yet discovered.
From moment
to moment,
the future has
not yet come.

When you live
like this, distinctions
and troubled
nights vanish.
A resting place for
your thoughts.

A short poem and sketch from yesterday.

A thousand
hollow words,
amidst the deep
ocean waters.
It all vanishes
and begins again,
endlessly.
There is nothing to do,
but stop searching.

The world before
my eyes, wasted.

Winter grasses
all that remain.

I find that December,
too, has come and gone.

Just enough, to tilt the
plum blossom and offer                            a silent prayer.

Night is worn
and darkness wide,
despair for the world
grows in me.
Fear cracks
the dawn of hearts,
happiness and grief
have fled away.

I see a vision,
nature as clear as water.
A mind, still as a mountain,
now awakened.
As the sunlight breaks
the cold silence.
I lost myself there.

What do you call the world?
A sound of one hand clapping?
Or just another day,
that brings it about….

I am one,
who drinks coffee
and writes poems.
Gazing at
day-to-day glories.
But slowly, slowly!
How many know
this way?

I search for not knowing,
in a world that knows.
In breath after breath,
the rain still comes at night.

But as long as I live, I am
drawn to stream- and-cloud life.
A truth, inside myself – and
nothing more to add.

I saw the insect
on my windowsill,
and said ‘ hello’.
Eastward or Westward,
it had no direction.
With no I and no other.

I thought, the truth
is never taken from another.
It is carried always,
within us – name and all.
Which ever way
the wind blows.