echoes from emptiness
journaling a mindshift
March 9, 2013
have you noticed?
everywhere you look:
.
same old ‘I’
.
.
ever-morphing ‘me’
~
February 17, 2013
is black the new holy?
.
I’ve been watching pop-science docos on telly and learning about
black holes
black matter
black energy
black flow
.
I’ve gathered that ‘black’ is the word used to denote
the invisible
the unknowable
the immeasurable
the ubiquitous
.
and I ask myself
is black the new God-word?
is black the new holy?
~
February 7, 2013
I have to go
when my love
for the wondrous world grows dull
and the world stops stopping
at the sill of my senses
my wild naked knowing
knows
that where I find myself
is a place I’ve outgrown
it knows
my pool has become safe
and stagnant
and whatever it is in this blood
that drives me upstream
will not take no for an answer:
I have to go
. . .
I will gasp in a new atmosphere
I will feed on unfamiliar fodder
I will ignore the old mating calls
. . .
what’s clear is this: on the far side
of comfort, habitude and certainty
creativity flourishes
and creativity is life’s unknowable agenda
incarnate
here
~
January 20, 2013
three rainforest haiku
Why is it that in the rainforest one’s thoughts are delivered in clusters of 17 syllables?
. . .
festooning this palm
the then, the now and the next
my fleeting life’s fruit
~
not yet eight o’clock
and the far ridge is hazing
summer burns the bush
~
no cell phone signal
a total power blackout
listen! the wind sighs
~
December 31, 2012
there’s no closet mystic here
a friend who knew me as a child
tells me I was – in spite of a tendency for promiscuity
and contrariness – always a closet mystic
he’s wrong, you know
I’ve never shared the mystic’s striving for union
with the One
I simply wanted to know whether the notion of One
was true, and if so, to prove it to myself
for myself by myself
I walked the neti-neti highway from horizon to horizon
until I fell off the edge of the world
and into the heart of here, where
‘I’ was the only eye and ear and all the senses shouted:
t h u s!
there’s no mystic here striving for union
with the One
this is what’s here, my old friend:
an unknowable, yet inescapable
cosmic narcissist, naked and guileless
playing with itself
- its One and only self -
in every conceivable form and fashion
(did I mention a tendency
towards promiscuity?)
~
