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
AGING PERHAPS, BUT NEVER OLD
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I do not advocate making this kind of hokku a habit, because it tends to
perpetuate the notion of the verse form as a kind of flippant game.
Nonetheless, t...
1 week 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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