Look Up!

I walk in beauty

Now

So much! These fine spring days

Always had done
Always had done

Face turned toward the ground

Beauty went unnoticed

This beauty everywhere
This peace in every step

Let's call it spirit
or human spirit
if that suits you, soothes you, better

In the midst of battle
and filth
in refugee camps
and on our city streets
in the wards
at Juvenile Hall
and San Quentin

Like a lamp
that was always there
in the midst of darkness

Light that one

That one is You.

Look up!

No Words

Spring has come,
a humid breath
between,
beneath
these ancient oaks

With their mossy beards
slowly
growing

Unknown grasses,
Stems of unknown blossoms
Rising Up!
Emanating a thousand shades of green
I have never
seen before

Or have I?

Goldsmith once said
The World is New!

And so it is
When the windows to the soul
are cleansed

Here, such a beauty
and stillness

as to overtake
this small me
totally

And this poem,
this creation of the mind,
even
a heresy!
a bastardization

of silence.

Spring

moment

that cannot be
spoken.

To open my lips
to invent a stanza
and already
I have departed
from Truth!

But for now,
Dear Lord,
this, this
is all I have to give

My humble and inadequate
offering.

My Karma Ran Over Your ...

Dogma!


Of course there will be dogma.

This world is built on such.

Within the span of one brief conversation,
you and I can create
a whole New Dogma!

(We'll write books
& teach seminars!)

Play with your dogma
Run with your dogma
In the fields of self-discovery
or self-negation

But when you are ready for
total Freedom

You must let him
off the leash.

(The real problem, of course,
is the damn Catma.)