grapez

this blog has been officially retired (as well as reverted back to its original name and kept online for posterity's sake). all future p...

Sitting in the shade, I look acoss the river at a wall of eastern pines; it could be several hundred years ago. The sun is shining there and...

this is not a zen-like poem; there is no zen within these words: in fact there is no poem at all. ~Kokoro Sonzai 2010 (trans. Son Rivers)

Two years ago I crossed the southwest desert thinking about a drop of truth that's totally undrinkable. Now it's hot and humid in Ne...

the sea is me before there was being. being the sea is like sighting first land without seeing. i sit on that land understanding the sea is ...

nothing but the moon tonight— and cotton-like clouds in burnished shreds... above a ragged wall of black pine trees lining the narrow road s...

the river magnifies the smallest event. one duck chases another in flight. an osprey flies toward the opposite shore. a fish rolls over and ...

high tide full moon the howl of waves like me in love within this manifesting tune ~Kokoro Sonzai 2010 (trans. Son Rivers)

howling wind sounding like the ghost of lights out! ~Kokoro Sonzai 2010 (trans. Son Rivers)

in the empty harbor there’s low tide momentum towards a white line of chaos where the never-ending sea is breaking on an ever-changing river...

the forecast was for heavy snow but nowcasting had changed its mind to almost nothing: just enough to fill its spot in space ~Kokoro Sonzai ...

I rested at the Old Man of the Mountain viewpoint to look at ledges where the Profile formed before collapsing but beheld dense fog instead....

like stained glass plates of ice are floating down the steeple river in the holy resurrection of returning sun so let us play ~Kokoro Sonzai...

super bowl sunday isn’t superer than any ordinary day this winter: empty chilly mostly sunny with a kiss of space-time being bliss ~Kokoro S...