Unbidden

During the global pandemic poor health 

got between me & the making of poems.

I’m back now, pick in hand, digging for coal

by the light of a full moon.

Out yonder window I see a white cat

prance across the neighbor’s lawn 

with a mouse in its mouth and headed for

their front porch       a gift as well unwelcome.

So You

So you did ask me

to sum you all up 

in the sparsest of

words and you did give

me the grand gesture:

{A, Not-A}.

As if that were not

well enough you kept

pestering me to

spell you all out till

you filled me with this:

Life’s a lark, if dark.

Now if you don’t mind

you may as well take 

your words and give them 

to whomever you 

do please to nag next . . .

you leave me alone.

Where I guess I am

in every case and

surely would not mind

if you would only

take away your words . . .

leave me empty mind.

Not ungrateful I

do appreciate

your being alone

all one and wanting

daunting company . . . 

so You, I leave words.

Light Consciousness

The light of every sun is

but a glimmer of the Sun

that doth never rise or set,

just each thing, its sacred spark . . .

like the bug I marked this morn

crawling cross the office floor.

I placed the wee critter down

on the front porch en route to 

the yard for Sunday’s paper, 

so on the return I had

to check my soles to see if

I’d stepped on it unawares.

Nothing there, this did play out

a scene the previous night 

when another spark of that 

Sun had landed on my chest 

to rest and, startled, I did 

with forefinger smite the mite.

Grand Humble Now, Here

Just when I think I

have seen every thing

I fail to notice 

the very thing that

keeps me in my place—

humble moment’s spur

ever spiraling 

nowhere to be seen.

{You, World}

There is nothing you

are not, being not 

a thing by yourself.

After Krishnamurti

Being a vain beast

you often demand

the world be like you.

How odd, the proud search

for lookalikes leads

to joining-up with

tribe or tradition,

doctrinal trappings

that sure do follow.

Begging freedom you

settle for bondage

among the masses

paying scant notice

to the tie that binds

by setting you free—

Behold, {you, your world}.

Faltering Recall

If you live with a

person who is not

you, there will be this:

sooner or later

you will remember

some event one way

and the other will

recall another . . .

and if you are not

attentive you may

find yourselves yelling

at one another.

Living together

is at best a walk 

in the darkest park.