Poems

Heaven’s Hive

 

We live and strive because

It is important not to stay sad

The insistent argument calls us

To become, overcome, come

Stand, leap, lunge, vanquish

Yet the deer must die and decay

The water in the stream flow

Away.

 

Standing on your promontory

Gargling your gravelly song

Throat thrust against the blue

Not bending, or stooping nor

Looking down over the abyss

You hear the song echo back

Urging you toward the next

Attack.

 

Because the orchestra must play

It needs new notes, new arias

The symphony of blood, the dirt

And all of its smiling crawly things

Require of you a final complicity

So that when your time arrives

You may proudly join Heaven’s

Hive.

 

Siddhartha’s River

Yawn, the whole swirling everything

Flowing together, a swirling river

That has no beginning and no end

From the rain from the sky,

To the mist to the air,

Non-stop, no rewind button and

Full-on, supercharged, eternal Shunyata

Emptiness as far as the eye can see

And as far as the eye can’t see

Then you understand that the difference

Between you and me and it and them

Is no difference, and that colors

Are also no difference, yet the cool

Blue radiance, which is no different

Calms you and heals you, and reminds you

This one big song plays on forever

In all directions, no beginning and no end

Like Siddhartha’s River

– – – – – – – – – – – – –

This Eternal Supper

And when you’ve gotten past her garden gate, tangled in virgin’s bower
And when you’ve stared down her sphinxes and solved her riddles
And after you’ve forded her bouldered streams and dangled from her peaks
And once you’ve navigated her crooked hopscotch and tilted checkerboard
And after she has beckoned you to finally traverse her quaint wooden porch
And when you enter her glowing parlor, full of golden light,
And she takes you inside, where you find the room prepared
And everything is there for you, everything you knew would be
And you finally palm the cup of tea, and chew the cake Dundee,
And pat the pillow, and the hardwood bench and the black hat rack
And you lay down your muddy jacket and your stained papers,
And then you realize that it is not only her there – something greater
And you know that something much greater has created this space
And you feel this monstrous energy filling the space to the edges
And then you notice the oil flame flickering on the wooden walls,
And you realize that you’ve been allowed to join this eternal supper
And you understand that you can never know why – so simply feast

– – – – – – – – – – – – –

One Response to “Poems”

  1. Tim September 30, 2010 at 8:27 am #

    Siddhartha’s River – Brother J, I love the spirit of this poem. I have grasp on to praying for peace. Not the cool global anti war movement peace but a personal spiritual peace. I think that if I’m ever truly at peace I will have reached paradise. Your poem seems to point in that direction. Thanks for the read. Love Tim

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