Life lives Life @nth


ants biting

sleep’s hiding
behind someone else’s eyelids

Life nudges Life @nth

butt finds zafu
breath breathes
curtain billows
candle flickers
thinking thinks
silence sings
body throbs

Life watches Life @nth

hand scribbles
words appear
brain marvels

Life lives Life @nth


nth – now! this! here! – see ‘n

can you hear the grass growing?


folded up on my zafu
eyes wide open
senses alive, alert
brain like a tuning fork
resonating, singing –
the pitch is off the scale
(can you hear the grass growing?
can you bear the pressure
inside a swelling dewdrop?)

sitting, breathing, being:
– the dawning of a soft new day

– body breathing itself sigh by sigh

– the hub of heaven’s heartbeat

shining sunbeams on skin
where just a breath before
was cool darkness

waking up is just like that


memo to busy wee-me


this pathless path has only three signposts
and they don’t point to any-thing or any-place:


shut up


into the unknowable Knowingness that you already are, that you are, that you are,
that you are


sitting in the dawn-blushed sanctuary
sitting on the zafu:  point zero
sitting with the rhythm of Life’s breath
sitting with hum, furnace of the universe
sitting with so, silver singing silence

sitting ’til the sitter is the sitting
and the blushing and the breathing
and the hum-ing and the silence
and there is only Beloved’s Beingness
and wee-me is a thought-galaxy yet to be invented


sitting as suchness


sitting at 2am, at 3am, at 4am

awareing distant thunder-rolls
pattering rain, the throb
of body-beat
the sweet silver singing
on the other side of thinking

watching the dance
of candle flame and curling
smoke from incense stick

the soft shifting shadow-shapes on
brick, the floating lace on invisible

at 5am the first timorous bird wakes the kookaburras who are sleeping late this dull dawn, and the chorus of craw, cackle, warble and trill begins

at 6am the eastern rim is softly lit
the earth stirs, exhales, mist rises

I make tea