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The Journey to the West

Though we journey to the West We pray to the East More or less that's the way Each day begins and ends It’s a tale everyone ...

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

In the Garden Digging

In the garden digging
On hands and knees
Immersed with the worm’s
Unspeakable sense of being
In the many knock-on effects
Of a warm spring rain

It’s life that spreads
With Hellenic demeanor
But at pandemic speed
As what’s given and received
Falls into rough balance
Through endless exchange
Of soil and seed

No matter what you plant
Or where you
Place the fence
How well you weed or offer
Up alternative defense
Against bird and beast
The bounded domain
Lavished for so many days
With encouragement

Still abounds with an excess
Of tendrils and shoots
Devoted to the conquest
Of space beyond
The borders defined

I too have been infected
In both word and deed
By the spirit of the ambient seed
Rich in hope from
Travels wind born
With eye cast upon
A far distant shore

But here in the garden
In the warm spring rain
I’m content to traverse
From row to row
Cultivating nothing more
In style both
Alluvial and plain

By repetitive tasks
Falling readily into
The palm of my hand
Truth sprouts more
Exuberantly within
The narrow yet
Widening band

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