Have you seen the wind
as it kisses the ocean,
setting the salt free?
There at the edge of the world,
seagulls compose serenades.
Have you seen the dawn
as it sneaks up on the night,
its arms soft and warm?
There at the start of the day,
the grass tears are moist.
Have you heard the sound
of the trees in the sunshine,
stretching to the sky?
There in the warmest embrace,
the world is made whole again.
11 Jun 2025
Leave a CommentIf nothing is a thing at all
then nothing comes from something;
that’s logic if you presuppose
that something there is that doesn’t
love the void:
that a thing that is cannot become
if there’s no seed or spark or speck
from which it comes to being.
It could be some eternal mind,
a divine will, or cosmic dust;
the truth is, it is just unseen
by those who claim to know the truth,
or lack enough creative juice
to see beyond what they can see.
The sages from the east propose
that it’s all in the mind.
Perhaps, that’s well enough to pass some tests
but has its own illusions.
A thing that can escape the mind?
How could we even guess it’s there?
The way things work, and intertwine,
the madness in the universe
in which we see some super-mind,
where do such notions grow and thrive,
except in our imaginations?
If a thing is nothing much,
then what is something after all?
There’s so much chaos, anyway,
unless you’re looking at the whole;
then the observer and observed
become just one united field.
If you and I could see the truth,
what good is that, if you and I
cannot imagine something else
that might contain us both?
31 MAY 2025
Leave a CommentThey’re not so often obvious,
the most important things;
in nuance lies the heart of life,
the rhythm that persists
despite the grandiose and wild
that receive all the press.
The understated subtlety
remains the truest test.
What difference does each moment make?
Not much, when set apart.
When you add them together,
you find out how greatness starts:
a simple grin, a stolen wink,
a seeming cast-off line;
almost unnoticed as the noise
from others rushes in.
Each plays their part in miniscule,
a section of the whole,
and seldom wanders out beyond
the confines of their role;
and yet, each is integral
to the thing that they comprise.
In that, too, is a greatness
beyond measure, in disguise.
16 SEP 2011
Leave a CommentWater seeks its own level,
on a quest to find the sea;
The answers we seek taste of metal,
our understanding like liquid drawn from a well
that finds the hard edges
of knowing, the galvanized pail
holding the essence of our being
in one place, in this world.
What is outside this frame of steel,
this skeleton that time binds to this space?
To where are we going?
From where did we come?
What can we know of answers,
we who will be one day poured from this bucket
into the ocean?
What need is there of questions then,
when we are part of the wave?
And to those who are still on the shore, separate,
how shall we describe
what is gained, what is lost?
“Wherever I look, I see men quarrelling in the name of religion —
Hindus, Mohammedans, Brâhmos, Vaishnavas, and the rest. But they
never reflect that He who is called Krishna is also called Úiva, and
bears the name of the Primal Energy, Jesus, and Âllâh as well — the
same Râma with a thousand names. A lake has several ghâts. At one
the Hindus take water in pitchers and call it ‘jal’; at another the
Mussalmâns take water in leather bags and call it ‘pâni’. At a third
the Christians call it ‘water’. Can we imagine that it is not ‘jal’,
but only ‘pâni’ or ‘water’? How ridiculous! The substance is One
under different names, and everyone is seeking the same substance;
only climate, temperament, and name create differences. Let each man
follow his own path. If he sincerely and ardently wishes to know God,
peace be unto him! He will surely realize Him.” — Sri Ramakrishna
(1836-1886)
21 DEC 2004
Leave a CommentThis is the oyster; why seek for the pearl?
There’s no escape plan for leaving this world
in my religion: no hereafter gold,
no burning embers, no cold of Sheol.
This is the medicine; why seek a pill
to flee reality, thinking you will
by any action change the universe,
except, perhaps, to make it a bit worse
with senseless struggle against so-called fate,
hedging your bets hoping it’s not too late.
This is the path you’re on; why second guess?
No point in leaving this life in a mess,
hoping salvation will come undeserved,
praying the universe doesn’t throw curves.
There is just oyster; that one grain of sand
turned to a pearl in the palm of your hand
is just some excrement to soothe the pain
of the endless ocean. Time and again
it waits at the shoreline to carry us out,
waits while we ponder, apostize and doubt.
This is the world that is; why seek one more?
Who knows what waits beyond the tide’s great roar?
This is your heaven, or this is your hell.
It too will pass away, after a spell.
24 APR 2006
Leave a CommentWhat makes up a community,
if not those common threads
that make us not such strangers
and more interested, instead,
in how the other sees the world,
what makes a good friend tick.
To share the things that shape your life:
that’s what makes friendship stick.
And who need know out and beyond
some wide, imagined fence,
besides the ones whose words you trust
with your experience?
If the result is my small pond
should teem with such big fish
that my wee boat seems less alone:
for what more could I wish?
09 APR 2006
Leave a CommentIn seeking out the allness of everything
(a journey full of critical posturing
that makes our baggage less intrusive)
listening silently guides each footfall.
Each minute’s chat, each garrulous dialogue,
that nervous banter drowning the emptiness
of what the world leaves as unspoken,
cleverly misdirects those who search for
the secret, sacred whispering undertone
that proves a pulse still dripping with energy,
of beyond ancient time and birthing:
constantly creating all of being.
15 OCT 2005
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