Upon meeting
the goddess
of the garden
at twilight
be not alarmed.
She’s sentient
like you,
but calm.
Your gasp or sigh
won’t upset her
Because she knows,
and she’s calm.
Author: Franklyn Monk
Armor
if I could eat anything
I’d eat barnacles and fence posts
grinding metal and shell alike
into a fine slurry
which I’d smear on my face
and forearms
strengthening myself
against storms to come
I told you I Hold the Sound
Three notes all it took
They knew they knew the tune
And skipped on by
They’re skippers or seekers
Searching for the unrecognized
The never heard
I’ve heard your notes
But never learned them
I rehearsed and I sang along
And I didn’t skip on by
The song is only a trickle now
I’m guarding it with my life
Like the last tributary
Of a once great river
Ran dry from drought and misuse
You are wind chimes and crickets
And leaves crunching underfoot
Ok, here’s the deal
There’s this thing around us
We’ll call it the world.
In the world events are happening.
We’ll call them current.
The currents swell and wash
A path to the future.
We control current events.
We add our voice to the torrent.
We build the future.
Drinking the Buddha
I don’t recognize the frightened drowning bee until the cup hits my lips. I instantly spit it out, and it slinks off, out of sight somewhere, presumably to die without causing me any more discomfort. Righteous guy like that, dying the way it had lived, in kindness and duty.