Loving Samsara
Tonight I call to Walt
invoking all that poet’s
spirit toward my own
as he already has
entreated mine. I stop
tonight to bless this dream,
illusion of creation,
unbelievably
variable, instilled
with photosynthesis
and playful respiration.
Breathe the present moment,
greenery and steel,
aware with every conscious
gulp that it’s not real.
~Son Rivers 2008
NIGHT SNOW
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Translating Chinese poetry into English is not a simple matter of
equivalency. Chinese — particularly the classical Chinese of poetry, is
rather like Japan...
4 hours ago
2 comments:
thanks for sending out your whitman song. reading it made this wonderful sunday morning even better.
i dont know how enlightened whitman was but his leaves of grass was a breath of fresh air in the up to then puritanical repressed american psyche
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