[ARTS]: Big and Little Poetry--free verse, any verse.

[Tai Shi]

Profuse Reality

When I look back to Junio,
I think I know not this name
This man. There are so many
I do not know of 3000 members

Where are they, I do not know,
Maybe 250
I have met in passing for These
I know only in passing
New Hampshire, happiness
Withstanding, why do I know?
Reality calls, to know
Reality's bow shooting arrow
Into sky missing its mark reality
Narrow we think we know

We do not know now gone
Now present hiding mirror
Of creation, bird song
Sing beautiful, bird reality
Singing screeching scintillating
Like sugar pouring into bowl
Spiced cinnamon reality song
Of bird, I bathe myself
Into pure song reality of bird,

Eighty-four degrees Fahrenheit
Reality, I begin to bathe myself
Into Reality, into buttermilk
Butter taken from milk,
This cultures what is left,
Jinko what is a name in reality
Bird call, I sing, I sink, I sing,
I rise to sing to perfuse reality.

Gassho
lah/sat today

[Tai Shi]

I Sit Quietly On A Tuesday Morning

Snow, cold, cold
swoons to Earth,
Dimly Light and Wind
Mix into swath, pathways
Of ice grinder of my heart
Forgive my fear, my dim
Resolved mind filled
With my soul of excuses
Wishing for more
More than wind, puff
Of air and water this
Is snow, white, not blue
Blue white blue yellow
Smudge of land beneath
Breath of fresh air cold, cold.
Above possible sea of ice.

Gassho
lah/sat today

[Layzie]

A Spring Morning Reflection

I've come back home.
To Spring in the Carolinas.
Naturally,
most of my time
has been devoted to my garden.

A hidden sanctuary
of wild flowers, azalea bushes,
and blossoming cherry trees.
But honey suckle vine
has now invaded my homestead.

Even with all of it's own beauty,
it has begun to choke the life
from the fellow foliage.

As I spend day after day
pulling and twisting these vines
from my dear old friends,
how can I not be reminded of,
and liken it to my own
practice of zazen?

Clearing away the brush.
Throwing away delusions.
To see what is truly there.

Gassho