(untitled)#39

reflecting

in the distance of a dream

here and now

searching in the here and now

for the distance of a dream

.

(untitled)#40

acer leaves adhered

to a wet black bench

colours running

children amongst rocks

echoes of lost summer

.

(untitled)#38

with my eyes closed

silently reading

the book of no words

 

in the sand

curling twists of blood

no painting its equal

 

billowing heaven

shot with the colours of sun

a cloud of orchids

.

(untitled)#37

sitting in zazen

consciously unconscious

now – where were we?

.

(untitled)#36

vacant fox-gloves

silent echo empty bells

absent bees

.

The Mists Of The Sea

.

Cloud maps shifting, shifting slow

across the heaven’s ethereal glow

and all about are myriad stars

falling to earth their sunlight far

has travelled long and travelled fast

to fall upon this beach at last

a snow-dome then, of frosted glass

the snowflakes whirling, whirling past

and a misted form – no detail lacking

comes overhead so slowly tracking

through obsidian depths that oh- so deep

will swallow any light and keep

but expiring is the gasp of night

as light brings dawn – a golden sight

and now I stand heart-heavy, sore

a giant wave rises – softly breaks ashore

.