Dedicated to my three favorite poets on Twitter, those many faces on Twitter...you know who you are! (One of them may not consider himself a poet, but I have enjoyed his poetry and Haiku for their simple perspective and their perspective on Zen practice.) Gratitude for your friendship and assistance on my path to awakening. Namaste and Peace. May you be well and happy. _/|\_
This piece was originally written ~February 20th, 2010
Let the air come in and circulate
Through those dusky places.
Just listen, for instance, to that lone field sparrow
Just listen, for instance, to that lone field sparrow
Who forgetting all humility awakens out of itself
And sings a bit more loudly than the rest.
That song is a bit of something,
And sings a bit more loudly than the rest.
That song is a bit of something,
A song to take peace in, a harbinger, yes,
of spring
Which comes to us all, just like every season.
Which comes to us all, just like every season.
It's all too common to let those moments blur,
All that simple song turning into
Ambient noise to be brushed aside,
Along with the sounds of traffic,
Which themselves are a kind of peace
In the world continuing if you listen.
How strange it is that sounds and colours
Can be so equally intense, how every feature seems
To take on some monumental significance
When viewed from either side of love
All that simple song turning into
Ambient noise to be brushed aside,
Along with the sounds of traffic,
Which themselves are a kind of peace
In the world continuing if you listen.
How strange it is that sounds and colours
Can be so equally intense, how every feature seems
To take on some monumental significance
When viewed from either side of love
― joy or sorrow.
It's still our winter now though,
And though the daylight extends its arms
And though the daylight extends its arms
Ever further into night, there's still time for us
To build that fire based on honesty and friendship.
Let's all gather round like the old birds that we are
― gathering blackberries.
Link to the Robert Hass poem "Meditation at Lagunitas" to which this poem refers.
Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I'll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase each other
doesn't make any sense. ~ Rumi
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