Thursday, May 31, 2012

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

                      from the ashes
              thou wilt rise and thou
              wilt come to her and brush

              the mischief from her eyes and fold
              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"

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

the singing reaches

the singing reaches of
              my soul
              the green

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

Tuesday, May 29, 2012


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

Monday, May 28, 2012

daisy face

"—i thank heaven somebody’s crazy
enough to give me a daisy"

ee cummings

Sunday, May 27, 2012

light rails

as purely painted

as rawly sculpted

as singularly shaped

as improbably held

in the final flare
the setting sun

Saturday, May 26, 2012

the night air

there are nights
like this
that are so

so intensely ripe

that i wonder
at the purpose of sleep

i wonder
at how i could
live with myself

that i missed so much

Friday, May 25, 2012

cherry blossoms

even the spaces in-between
are sweet

and soft

Thursday, May 24, 2012

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
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

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

ryokan's words

first days of 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.

Monday, May 21, 2012

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.

Sunday, May 20, 2012

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

Saturday, May 19, 2012

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
and somehow separate

Friday, May 18, 2012

the watered face of stars

night of the watered face of stars has dawned
                   ordered and scattered like flowers where beauty sleeps

Thursday, May 17, 2012


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 

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!!!

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

the very small spaces in the forest

music by lisa o piu

Tuesday, May 15, 2012


i know
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

Monday, May 14, 2012

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

Sunday, May 13, 2012

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.

Saturday, May 12, 2012


this world 
is but a fleeting dream

so why by alarmed 
at its evanescence?

Friday, May 11, 2012

rush roof

the mind is exactly
this tree

that grass

without thought or feeling
both disappear

ikkyu sojun (1394-1481)

Thursday, May 10, 2012

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 . . . .

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

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

Monday, May 7, 2012

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
this intimacy

this hopefulness

Sunday, May 6, 2012

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 
drawing angles of its own
splayed soft and jagged 
shapes the sharp young heat
of a star

Saturday, May 5, 2012

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

Friday, May 4, 2012

reading the water of my hand

i walk beside this river

it flows like
the lines in the palm of my hand

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

and turning upstream

swimming against the current

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
to the mouth 
of your soul

Thursday, May 3, 2012

an ending (ascent) II

i found this image at (

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