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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 ...

Thursday, September 20, 2018

Poem for the End of Summer

Where are you?
A cricket cries
Again and again
Under the light
Of the waxing moon

Over here
Comes the
Irregular reply
From the edge of
My perceptual field

Above the fan's
Whoosh and whir
Ever so faintly I feel
The heavens wheeling

The still point
Of the turning world
Is turning still
Every cycle and season has
Its beginning middle and end
Over parsecs and eons
Of continual forgetting
Every something becomes
Nothing and soon enough
Becomes something again

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