One day
I will die.
And my body will decay.
Just like all life.

But not today.
So, I will continue to live
an interesting life
in an interesting world.

Ensuring that my
presence is no accident.
Nor full of futility and regret.
Not even one night’s dream.
​

Sometimes the blue sky.
Looks like a dark trail.
Bitter rains drop by drop.
Other times there is
a patch of new light.
Whispering once again
of enlightenment beyond
senses and thoughts.
Then I realize….
that there is nothing
to be attained
outside of myself.
It is all within.
Ideas of winning
merit from others.
Are like the show ponies
dancing a meaningless practice.
Just illusion and misguided.
Not in touch with happiness
or in harmony with the way.

Here is a river.
I took a deep breath,
and looked around.
In that moment
alertness,
curiosity,
courage,
determination,
non-attachment,
joy,
love,
calm,
peace,
serenity,
and a perspective.
That here by the river.
No thought is wasted.
Transience and
emptiness are
part of the way
And I am untroubled
by walking the universe alone.

At dawn,
seeing is a gift.
At noon,
a few raindrops
return to being clouds.
At dusk,
the birds take their wings.
Perhaps listening to
a loss of attachment.
The grieving is over
for another day.

I heard the stories.
Mud, mud and more mud.
So, I crossed the road.
And for a short time.
Sat down and watched
the world turning.
I thought, so much lost so far away.
Yet, confronting the moment.
I cut down the tall thorns.
Seeing everything as it is.
Name, form and attachment.
Just clouds in the sky.
Changing from time to time.

Walking in the summer heat .
Along half empty streets.
What do I earnestly seek?

I see the ancient cicadas.
Like a wildfire on the crest.
Making no sounds.

Then I see a truth
in my own heart.
That life is not life.

Until we begin to
speak of poetry.
Letting the world
take care of itself.
​

There are a thousand paths to it.
I mean happiness.
There is nothing really to do,
except look around.
Earth, mountains, rivers.
Winter snows, spring flowers,
summer rain.
Smiles, kind words
and kind deeds.
It all comes and goes.
Only our searching for happiness
prevents us from seeing it.
As for me,
I have no rank.
But, I cultivate the
seas of endless time.
By looking around.
Seeing the dewdrops
on the lotus leaves.
Watching the moon
follow the stars.
And all things in-between.

In the city.
The cicadas
have a  sharp look.
Tasting the setting sun.
Music fills the air.
The poet takes off his hat.
Summer sleeps
once more.
And we all go
along like before.

An ancient scene.
There are good days,
when flower viewing
is my normal routine.
Then there are days
when even the busy
streets are left behind.
And sacred words
rise from the foothills.
Claiming everything
has grown so thin.
Breathing in, breathing out,
it is time to move forward.
The road that goes directly
is the road I will follow.
And in end,
this too shall pass.

A dose of life
fell into my mouth.
Between the timelines.
Only the sound of
the cicadas seemed to matter.
I could no longer tell
the difference between
the mud and the lotus.
All want to say is,
I am right here.
And everything seems
different now.
​