Meditations on Meditation (fragments)

a single moon, clear and bright
                            in an unclouded sky
yet still we stumble in this world's darkness

how simple and chaste were the words of the ancients
calligraphic star charts of mystery and sage wisdom
mapping out the middle passage
                                         from the square to the circle
                                         the chaff to the grain

inspiration poems are the best
not to take anything away from those complex ideas
that curve along like a twisted valley carved
from years of weathered toil and erosion
setting the boundaries on our mental tributaries

its the impulsive trips downstream that bring us closer to home
             the next step is always right before the eyes

obscurity
             passion
                         brutal honesty
                                           that's a good start

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ikkyu said it best:
writing something to leave behind is another kind of dream
            when i awaken i know that there will be no one to read it

the true master lowers himself into illusion every time he speaks
what is there to be said for the natural born teacher

your genius must remain as hidden as your pending insanity
a cerebral solar flare that eclipses the icy caverns of neptune
runs circles round mantras

shimmering mellow tones of grey luminosity
reach up to the stratosphere and cry freedom
sometimes in silence,
sometimes aloud

the true master lowers himself into illusion every time he speaks
what's the there to be said for the natural born teacher

sisyphean griot destined to translate the circumference of pi
into astronomical units that the people can consume

bring the people together and watch what comes forth

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its june again,
          the sweltering humidity of southern california
clings to you like red and blue lights to a rear view mirror

the lengthening days provide ample time for idleness
the devil's underground thought chop shop

welded scraps of inert musings high jacked before the test run
patched and plated notions
scratched free of the grade school serial digits
the carefree ponderings of the silly old bear

unharnessed cogitations like newly pubescent wild-beast
untamable and massively self-destructive

prisoner of war to my own negative energy
the spiraling gyre caught in retrograde motion

when did my thoughts get so damn complicated
i wish i were pooh

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another hazy 78-degree afternoon
life goes on, as it always does

body surfers catch their foamy waves
round eyed kids build beachside castles

just near the water later day sun sparkles in the salt stiffened sand

me, i need only one grain to set my mind back to the task
of contemplating the expanses of the universe

the mental state of my joyful solitude blows freely like the wind
            deeply like the earth
                                           and passionately
            like the rays of the sun

from the whisperings of the grass to the heartbeat of the trees
i am one with time

lonely only when i have no one with which to share
the beauties of the cosmos

like the ocean's symphony of sound
crashing in, fading out, and crashing in again
rainbow tinted eyelids that shield from amber brilliance

reflected vibrations from the giver of life
sending their praises skyward
along with everything that has breath