poetry

A good poem,
Like Camphor,
Disappears when exposed,
To the light of day.

Late Spring

Late Spring
Great Blue Herons nesting
In the Sycamore tree

Only This

This apparent reality
In time and space
Is merely borrowed from
The eternal and infinite Self.

Early Spring

Dandelions blooming
Great Blue Herons squawking
Shaki's rite of spring.

Not Two

Like a line drawn in water,
All phenomenon rise,
Have their day,
And fall away,

Leaving no trace.

Like a line,
Drawn in water . . .

Self Realization

Enlightenment, is not of the person.
The Self, is always present.

ocean darshan

the wave
is not different
from the ocean