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
WHY DID I WAKE? WHEN SHALL I SLEEP AGAIN?
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In the past few days, have noticed a great many people coming to this site
for my discussion of the “Days of Wine and Roses” poem by Ernest Dowson.
In it...
5 weeks 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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