Deep South

The father, after a little persuasion
Bought his son, the waiter
A latte coffee to drink outside

Meanwhile the American guy
Buys another shot of expresso
And sits down beside me

We talk of money
Doctors, and lawyers, o yes
And we talk about boxers

All of these types you see
Have to have a ruthless streak
They are not always to be trusted

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Time Out

Today I walk the same path
I see flowers in the verges
I see sheep’s wool on the fences
I walk faster than yesterday
For now I know where I am going

Because of my increased pace
I have longer to pause; to look
At the butterflies more closely
Such as the one of plain colour

A mousy-brown, yes perhaps
A field mouse, without any
Of those crazy orange patterns

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Chiaroscuro

A clear blue sky
A still still tree
Light lilac flowers
Whose name I do not know
Though I do know someone
Who very well might

I do know sunlight
I do know shadow
I do know the sound of birds
And the aeroplane above

To say that this is a pleasure
Would be an understatement
Yet still I will say it

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Plain Gift

I thought I might pick a leaf
A great big leaf
From the great big tree

I thought I might place that leaf
On the Sangha table
With photographs and donations

Then I found this seat
In this gentle space
With sunlight and flowers

I read your message
I too wish to be at home
Yet there is beauty here

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Stick With It

The discussion is over
But soon
The walking meditation will begin
But soon
The aircraft will have landed
But soon
Cars will reach their destinations
And already
The dog has stopped barking
And already
Church bells have changed peel
And already
The breeze, for what it was worth
Has become becalmed

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