The Way Of The Tao

people say they know me – knew me

a poor man – crazy man:

Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!

Old and battered but breathing

the subtle things;

but now they say they don’t  – didn’t

unable to rely on appearances – experiences

the sickness is illusion

and it is fortunate to meet

with men wise to the Tao

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Haiku-heights theme: desert

long my shadow falls

across your sheer faces –

the low angled sun

.

a fine thread sewn

into the curved hips of dunes

footsteps in the sand

.

each grain of rice climbs

the arcuate dune lifting

ripple by ripple

.

yearning for water

winds dry the salt on my skin

a deceitful kiss

.

the sky shimmers

seven colours play

with promise

.

sand grains jump

excitedly

emulating rain

.

just a shower

of heavenly light – all else

evaporates

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Nine Lives

oh how I now must face my fears

drying my eyes away where cold-shed tears

evaporate away to powder – salt

the only trace that’s left of fault

yet it is not true that I don’t regret

but quite what I should do – I forget

and my tears do not belie I’m sad

instead that once my heart was glad

I lived a life that was full of vigour

why I should be sad I just don’t figure

but now comes the part in this fine race

where my heart must live without its trace

nine-lives the cat but perhaps its true

that I had more, but more ran through

perhaps my last one ends just here

perhaps already by my fear

without regret could I live instead

in a world of poetry going round my head

perhaps I could return again

one more time to lift the rhyming pen

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