fallen starwe are, with or without intervention, the stray blossoms of scattered seeds;weeds or wildflowers depending on the context. life flowered from the remnantsof the deaths of the first stars before our sun was born and spread it tendrilsto any and every niche it found. that being said, there is no missing linkdescribing our evolution from a simian ancestor. there is, however, a bridge thatspans that gap: lonely deity, meddling watcher, or a combination of both tales. this, by no means, makes us more or less than we have always been or can ever be;but realizing this can free us to fulfill those potentials.amino acids,salting primordial s
An Amost-HaibunThe diamond-like dew drops trailed from the posy's petticoat down to her slender legs;overwhelming exaltation strikes the eyes of the spirit of every witnessing guest.As the citrus sun soaks in this blend made by gentle, shifting earth,the empyrean sky allows for both plodding and applauding laborers a chance to taste daylight.Trusting your core root,sprout great love in good man's hand.Pollinate spring land.
a robin's insight -- haibunI am the robin who protects these woods, ever watching; never sleeping. My daily routine is to stare at the humans who tread along this path. Clumsy beasts that seem to not realize the plants they bump and bugs they stomp. Why must such a being intrude, when it has so much all ready? They can not sing, they can not dance, they can not soar. Trapped on the ground, with no way to leave, perhaps that is why they must have the whole thing.They pluck our berriesclear cut woods and broken homesstaring as we burn.
Relaxing RideI calmly ride my bike down the trail, enjoying the beauty of nature. Sure the leaves have all fallen and the trees have all withered, but that doesn't mean it can't be relaxing. The cold, crisp air is a refreshing change from being stuck inside and the lack of wind helped make the experience enjoyable. Hearing the tires of my bike rhythmically crunch against the dead leaves on the ground helped clear my head as well. Alas, this experience was short-lived and I had to rest frequently because of my physical health; but I enjoyed every moment of it.She calms meWith her cool breath and beauty-I'll return soon.
The Outsiders (89. Through the Fire)I run through the town while the beams sweep, destroying everything around me. My country, my city, my culture, my home; all of it turning to rubble. There's no shelter to keep me out of the line of fire; none that I could see. A cellar, a deep trench, anything to get me out of the fire.Suddenly I hear a man calling for me, beckoning me to join him and his family in their cellar. So I sprinted as fast as I can, diving right into the poor guy as I fell in. That beam came way too close for comfort. At least now I can rest and wait this out.They surprised our worldWith beams hotter than the sun,Nothing is untouched.
Eerie Forest I begin my journey into the quiet forest of this foreign land. I hear nothing; no birds, no small critters, no crickets, not even the wind. The eerie atmosphere almost makes me want to turn around and leave; but that's something only a coward will do. Not too far in, I notice a peculiar sign in the tongue of the locals. I am not much of an educated man to know what it says, but I feel it's a warning of some kind. Apparently demons are known to hide in this forest; perhaps it's a warning against those. After what felt like hours of exploring what's off the beaten path, I notice some yellow tape tied to a tree. It looked like it made a path
AqueousAqueous: of, relating to, or resembling water, made from, with, or by waterThe lake sits on the horizon, a blue and waiting figure. Do you miss the glaciers in your dreams? Do you imagine what it is like to be ice again, a solid again. Carving the landscape with your awesome weight? Does a liquid dream solid dreams? Or is it all just so much water, flowing dreams that don't make any sense? You can't miss the ocean because you never belonged to it. You are fresh, and it is salted, cured and ready to be preserved for the ages. You are ready to be polluted and drunk. Inhabited by brown fish that bleed sewage, and have three eyes.Fresh water
Nature's SpaI dip my toe in to test the steaming, bubbling spring. So sure that the temperature's just right, I slowly lower myself in; the water level just reaches my neck perfectly. After finding a comfortable place to lean back, I rest my head against the warm, rocky edge leaving all my troubles and worries behind. All I hear is the bubbling hot spring and the forest life surrounding me. I am glad that I found this natural place of peace.My tension is goneMind, body, and spirit calm;Steam cleansing troubles.
LineageWhy is it that after all this time, we do not encounter Babylonians, Assyrians, Moabites, Philistines, Edomites, or the like any longer? The answer lies in the concept of the LINEAGE.father begat sonflesh and mind, soul and spiritborn to reproduceThese peoples were conquered, then assimilated until they ceased to exist. For all intents, their lineage can be considered to have passed away, although their offspring may still remain. But this is not a piece against assimilation. This is about Christ, and how he has set us apart to be a LINEAGE.though minds may grow dimthe word of the Lord will standflesh fails, Spirit reignsThe c
Contemplating 'Sorrow'A white marble maiden, carved in so touching an image, sits among the symbols of hope proffered for those departed – ornate crosses, the blessed virgin; gazing wistfully away from our tender mourner. Held, not clutched, a modest floral wreath, her head is bowed in somber contemplation – kneeling in form, yet lightly so, as if to spring up and flee her source of sorrow.Scentless and cold white, the stone roses held are a pale shadow of those set nearby, a splash of color in an ashen field – too soon wilted. The rolling folds in her flowing garment create an air of suppleness though they are as fixed as th
NovemberNovember 1stsome night, orange and distant, has apparently transcended necessity. the rare morning light beams down in slats from the blinds like an alien invasion; was i returned just now? have i awoken the galaxy of sound and weight? my newly discovered body, oddly ancient, rolls off in search of feet; my mind still distilling dreams, obsessing on photo-flashes of past lives in the vain attempt to explicate the curious thrall that had me believing in words. i listen for the hum of breathing at 900MHz, then turn towards a door in search of a known world to apprehend, a name to pretend.horizon light breaksparches dusk of old plashe
Bogach Piobaireachda vague and dearth-pitched skirling is kited on the cold wind;a jaundiced gossamer wail, the last banshee's dying song.what stark, awe-filled tragedy does this serenade portend?omen haunt 'ere notfuture never be begotmothan so forgot
Not Far RemovedThe morning sunshine streams into our sitting room, comforting in itself,it doesn't ease my concern for the tender buds as frost glitters in the early light.the fury of nature...men's madness afflict their ownnations reel in distress
Subtle PerceptionsScents are the first impression, a musty rumor of thawing vegetation, warmed and riding the faint evening breeze. Flocks of birds, northward now, arrow their flight. The day's fullness is passing, yet remaining an indication of seasonal change - the waxing power of the sun.placid vernal poolsraucous sea of peeps…nightfall transformation
United States Summer 2011America alienates me.From touchdown in Atlanta it is obvious I am, so to speak, no longer in Kansas.I am asked what I am doing here. Repeatedly, and not always in a nice way. I want to answer with the obvious, that I am queuing endlessly for the privilege of being cross examined by an unfriendly customs officer who wants to know all kind of private details my best friend doesn't even know, but I swallow it back and smile meekly, while trying to act like I am not nervous, frustrated and insulted.Procedures, waiting lines, probing questions, stamps and signatures, and then, finally, the liberating "Enjoy the United States".I never felt
mcgyver it...i understand what i understand is trivialcompared to what i do not understand and nothing in the light of what i will neverunderstand...still, that feeling of falling up when the lesson's bottom drops out and theenvelope again expands beyond perception is a sacredreminder the we are always standing at the center of a circle who's mid-point is nowhere.jack-hammersmake poor tattoo-guns.do your best.
compression by disbeliefi am watching the nation i love dance on the grave of the boogey-man:so many eyes glazed over, as if the death of this already dying man was theanswer to all our troubles... and yet, to me, it all reeks of bloated nationalism and distraction. the details have been given to us wrote;no questions, no photos, nothing other than the word of a government which has made 'deception' its by-word. while ostensibly a reaction to 3,000 deaths,what exactly are we not supposed to notice?the beast slain,yet we have no headfor our gates.
there and back again cyclethe journey of one thousand miles beginswhen my alarm says so. mild surprise turnsto less-than-mild disappointment as my brainwakes up enough to tell me it's two a.m. andtime to go to work. it then dozes throughthe shower (lather, rinse, repeat), gettingdressed (pants, smock, shoes), and packingmy tools (knives, shears, sharpie) until iwalk out the door.in neutral,perched atop a hill.then...the...push...~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~the jangle of my (brass) keys (bellchimesgongs)locking the door as i leave is a benediction.i reach the bottom of the stairs, step outunder the stars, and begin my thr
perspective shifti have spent my life, to this point,wearing red-white-and-bluetinted glasses despite the fact i railed against them. i have allowed myself the comforts of denial, seclusion and ignorance that go hand-in-hand with the patrio-nationalism that has for so long angered me. i can no longer allow myself this duality.i spit outthe rat-poison andthe kool-aid.
chapter 80: perochiality"Reduce the size of the population and the state.Ensure that even though the people have tools of war for a troop or a battalion they will not use them;And also that they will be reluctant to move to distant places because they look on death as no light matter.Even when they have ships and carts, they will have no use for them;And even when they have armor and weapons, they will have no occasion to make a show of them.Bring it about that the people will return to the use of the knotted rope,Will find relish in their foodAnd beauty in their clothes,Will be content in their abodeAnd happy in the way they live.Though adjoinin
een paar raventwee vogels, so donker blauw dat ze zwart schijnen; hun hoofden in congres gebogen. vet en glanzend, ze overschouwen hun leengoed; bewaken de entourage van herfst die voor het voetvolk van winter plaats maken.raven fluisterenhun koude geheimen:de lange slaap komt.
Sta.sh
