the inner tide—
what moon does it follow?
I wait for a poem
Diane Di Prima
————————————————
Wait no more
Visit your brother
Take the drive
Relieve the pressure
I will be ok
Indeed I may thrive
While you do your duty
And I turn to play
Most days I would try to write a poem; it is a practice, as I suppose is meditation, or smiling, or watching the world go by
the inner tide—
what moon does it follow?
I wait for a poem
Diane Di Prima
————————————————
Wait no more
Visit your brother
Take the drive
Relieve the pressure
I will be ok
Indeed I may thrive
While you do your duty
And I turn to play
white frost—
the nun’s worn wicker basket
starts the journey
Sono-Jo
————————————————
The young woman
There, in place of you
About to start
About to enter
Her own closed order
Just as, so had you
Those several
Months before
That was a day
With a frost on its way
cherry blossoms fallen
people’s hearts
serene again
Koyu-Ni
————————————————
In my summer
The first summer leaf
On the blossom tree
In my grain of sand
The first (or latest) deep desire
For transformation
To become who knows who
Yet to do so with life
In all of its many colours
how easily it glows
how easily it dims
the firefly…
Chine-Jo
————————————————
Beside the fire
A memory is made
Making the fire
A foundation of life is laid
Now the book of solitude
Now the contemplation
On which we might meditate
after the dancing—
the wind in the pines
and the insect’s cries
Sogetsu Ni
————————————————
Yes, I say to play
To become playful
Yet, I know, that to play
Does not come so easy
No, to play
Takes a considerable effort
And as for dancing
Well, I don’t remember the last time
Except there was that charity affair
Down London Road