the breath of all persisting stars

 and when

              i have offered up each fragrant

              night,when all my days

              shall have before a certain

              face become

              white

              perfume

              only,

                      from the ashes

              then

              thou wilt rise and thou

              wilt come to her and brush

              the mischief from her eyes and fold

              her

              mouth the new

              flower with

              thy unimaginable

              wings,where dwells the breath

              of all persisting stars

ee cummings 

(excerpted from "a king atop his throne"

the singing reaches

the singing reaches of

              my soul

              spoke

              the green

ee cummings
(excerpted from "a king atop his throne"

unquestionably

most people fear most:

a mystery for which i’ve

no word except alive

—that is,completely alert

and miraculously whole;

with not merely a mind and a heart

but unquestionably a soul-

ee cummings

daisy face

"—i thank heaven somebody’s crazy

enough to give me a daisy"

ee cummings

light rails

as purely painted

as rawly sculpted

as singularly shaped

as improbably held

in the final flare

of 

the setting sun

the night air

there are nights

like this

that are so

so intensely ripe

that i wonder

at the purpose of sleep

and

i wonder

at how i could

live with myself

knowing

knowing

that i missed so much

cherry blossoms

even the spaces in-between

are sweet

and soft

falling to earth

in the descent

so much settles

against my falling body

i hold my breath

and close my eyes

if only 

to manage

the download

the deluge

of late arrivals

pressing against my skin

they - each

ask

the very little

but pertinent questions

the "why are we's"

and "who am i's"

that tell of where they have emerged from

and then more of

where they must go

and i -

the descending angel

crossing back

wordless and evanescent

into this entirely

bound space

wish their constrictions

into hope and purpose

it is all

and the least

i can do

ryokan's words

first days of spring.....blue sky, bright sun.

everything is gradually becoming fresh and green.

carrying my bowl, i walk slowly to the village.

the children, surprised to see me,

joyfully crowd about, bringing

my begging trip to an end by the temple gate.

i place my bowl on top of a white rock and

hang my sack from the branch of a tree.

here we play with the wild grasses and throw a ball.

for a time, i play catch while the children sing;

then it's my turn.

playing like this, here and there, i have forgotten the time.

passers-by point and laugh at me, asking,

"what is the reason for such foolishness?"

no answer i give, only a deep bow;

even if i replied, they would not understand.

look around! there is nothing besides this.

daigu ryokan

somewhere . . . just beneath the surface of this world

pink trilliums

it's a holiday monday here. 

a day for rest and contemplation or more likely, a bike ride, some gardening, some reading, music listening, tidying and school preparation! 

meanwhile on my bike ride yesterday i came across some trilliums . . .  they sat very still and watched me walk towards them and then kneel and then feel that combination of thankfulness and amazement that engulfs me when i see flowers.

only extend

these too

contain all they are 

and all that they are intended to become

then they unfurl

and become

little more

than they already are

in substance

if not in form

i know better

the canvas is filled

with subtle shimmers

spindly dryness

random green ebulience

a splash of watery evanescence

and the whole tied together

by my eyes

holding the frame 

of the image

as if it were in this instant

of knowing

distinct

and somehow separate

the watered face of stars

night of the watered face of stars has dawned

                   ordered and scattered like flowers where beauty sleeps

excerpted from "the joy of the drop"   37 poems by ghalib

turtles

on my rides

i am privileged to pass through

beautiful and natural places

that welcome me 

as kindly

as i welcome the privilege

of sharing this world with them

i ride by these ponds periodically

and this time i saw a little reed island

on which were sitting 

three

turtles

one slid into the water 

as soon as i stopped

clearly tired of the paparazzi

while the two remaining

sunned themselves

and revelled 

in this extraordinary

and gorgeous day!!!

the very small spaces in the forest

music by lisa o piu

this

i know

that

this shadow is water

this ripple is rock

this whisper is wind

this petal a word

these dry stalks a beginning

these rocks

a history

this tree stump a story

this cloud a song

this thought a colour

this dream a world

this moment

a completion

my mum and i

                                        

yesterday being mother's day, i popped in on my mum who very bravely carried me around for nine months and a bit, gave birth to me, and then toughed out nineteen years of me living in her home!!!

i like to think that we have a deeper appreciation of each other for having shared so much!!!!!

i love you mum -

of course i do!

.....................

oh and while i was there visiting,

i nipped into her garden and saw much beauty

which reflects her care and kindness

the rain has stopped

the rain has stopped, the clouds have drifted away,

and the weather is clear again.

if your heart is pure, then all things in your world are pure.

abandon this fleeting world, abandon yourself,

then the moon and flowers will guide you along the way.

daigu ryokan

evanescence

this world 

is but a fleeting dream

so why by alarmed 

at its evanescence?

ikkyu sojun

rush roof

the mind is exactly

this tree

that grass

without thought or feeling

both disappear

ikkyu sojun (1394-1481)

glass bottles, cans, and adobe

i took my class to spend a day visiting a building using geothermal energy, solar energy, with closed grey water processing, walls stuffed with straw, denim, and beautiful to be inside and outside.

one wall was given over to a simple beauty . . . light passing through glass . . . .

just passing under

rainy road

this lonely road 

i stop here

on my way home

to see the hills

and especially when it all

so suddenly fills with colour and light

and sounds so like

the falling of rain

and the muted calling of birds

from within hedges and trees

sun lace clouds

this hushed expectancy

like lace -

so many fine and tiny

eyelets that let the light in

between threads that contain the form

so is this sky

woven with such care

these trees

reaching

into

this intimacy

this hopefulness

early afternoon mid-spring on a bench

i'm sitting under

a blue hued sky soft washed with clouds 

much whiter than

the darkness of the tree 

which 

drawing angles of its own

splayed soft and jagged 

shapes the sharp young heat

of a star

sun and water and swamp

with the sky

so blue

and the sun so pure and warm

i simply had to wander

into the swamp

and of course

it's no surprise that

the sky and the water

like all lovers

reflect and transmute

each other

into something more

and else

reading the water of my hand

i walk beside this river

it flows like

the lines in the palm of my hand

somewhere

in its beginning

is a distant spring

itself born

from rain

that fell in thin silver lines 

from sky to mouth
to skin

and in these quivering

tensile lines

that arc and braid

across these hands      

that have known so very much

in this palm

that flows so much like

this river

are little pictures

of me

flowing

and turning upstream

swimming against the current

holding

other currents

hiding behind rocks

tumbling over ledges

returning to the sky

to fall as rain

into the cupped palms

of you 

and then so unexpectedly
and gently
drawn

to the mouth 

of your soul

an ending (ascent) II

i found this image at (http://52weekpreschool.blogspot.ca/2011/01/week-16-moon-phases-and-such.html)

long long ago i listened to an album by brian eno entitled "apollo". developed as the soundtrack for a documentary about the apollo space missions, it had one piece of music on it that somehow rose above the rest with its dreamy wistfulness.

here that same piece is reimagined by icebreaker

                                                         icebreaker: an ending (ascent) II