the world is perfect at every moment

coming home from a haiku meeting late at night. i am the only car on the road. not more than thirty miles from home i am traveling at exactly 55 miles per hour with farms on one side and a marsh on the other. it is the first day of ‘bow hunting’ season for deer. off to the right i spot the head of a buck. he sees me too. but still he comes as i slam on the breaks and try to turn to avoid him. he makes contact on the left side of the car and flies two feet off the ground horizontally across the road landing in the marsh. i get out to check and he is sinking and disappears. the car is still running. i drive home and find a quiet place to sit. connected forever with a deer i just met once.

the dark night
of a single candle
sandalwood

eating a poem for breakfast every morning

healthy eating is essential to a long and fulfilling life. when i wake up i toast a short poem and eat it with honey on a raisin bagel. verbs are important to any writer so i find this habit totally engaging and inspirational. eating is a very healthy verb.

to say no thing
and yet
the smell of fresh coffee

a close approximation of nonchalance

walking up a small rise in the trail. at the top i see a young doe nibbling on a sapling just a few feet apart we are. we both hold our breath. my camera with a wide angle lens is in my hand. as i raise the camera and click the shutter the moment is frozen in digital time. the next thing i see is a tail disappearing into the clatter of forest.

pretending not to be there the whitetail and i

winter solstice dreams

where i live in the north woods you never know what winter will bring. every night you go to sleep and with the exception of the sounds of the wind you have no idea what you may see when you wake. but it is an exciting time. a foot of snow. minus 30 degrees fahrenheit. heavy winds. and there are always those moments when the sun flies off the trees with the snow. whatever greets you is perfect at that moment. the peace that comes from the terms of a mutual acceptance between nature and human nature.

morning fog the unimaginable always within reach

if not this world the next

they say that the entire universe is expanding. i have to believe they are right. i have gained a few pounds myself this year. my plastic buddha has not varied an ounce since i bought him at the ‘target’ store in the ‘home and garden’ section. best $9.95 plus tax that i have ever spent.

mindful of every living thing i recycle my myself

hell is other people

jean paul sartre had it wrong. hell is not other people. hell is our own convoluted view of ourselves. what takes us off center is our failure to find out who we really are. once we discover ourselves we can be set for life. oh but until we do that. all we can see are the faults of others. and this is hell for them as well as us.

zendo
the flies dont land
on the roshi

Most likely will never be published!

the fragile things carry the most weight

we have a lot of ‘stuff’ in our house. collected over the years small things of wood pottery and glass are in every room. my zen mind sometimes questions the clutter but what the hell. these are ‘places’ to me. when my wife and i travel we buy ‘stuff’. and i really have to say i am ‘attached’ to it all. i have been slowly ‘losing’ my own stuff but those things that link to events in our life seem strangely stuck in place. i have no plans to even change their locations.

meditation bell
ten thousand things wait
in the living room

Most likely will never be published!

hitchhiking to the end of my life

every morning i put my thumb out and catch a ride to whatever comes next. it has become so natural that it is just done without thinking. if you keep the paper blank the words will just appear when they are ready. sounds easy doesnt it. eighty six thousand four hundred seconds to the end of the day. what could go wrong.

on the way home
ten thousand bugs
die on my windshield

Most likely will never be published!

humphrey bogart blues

success is internal for me. the maltese falcon exists and world war two never happens in my dreams. but still. there is too much to deal with so i just have one drink after another and wake up in the arms of lauren bacall. i was born with too much irony in my bones. i know that now.

the apocalypse
has come and gone…
i am alone

Most likely will never be published!