BACK ROAD DHARMA

©

PAEAN

jewels that only half captured my attention:

once upon a time, magical rings, heroes, kings, Sinbad the Sailor

and Disneyland

not to mention Adam and Eve, the evil apple

and Noah's ark

vague noise in the background

which no forest or quiet afternoon ever knew

a great hullabaloo raising dust

to obscure what seemed forbidden

all the world a stage

leaving who for an audience?

my role accepted

in emptiness everything is the center of everything

the play goes on

vastly entertaining

a Hindu temple with overflowing denizens

sculpted towards heaven

but still

comes the faint echo of what played

in times before antiquity

a real jig danced to simple music

a waft blown on subtle breezes

yet the stuff of budding scripts

my half captured attention must grant

a drift of inconsummate yearnings

SURPRISE YOURSELF

Abe Lincoln studied by firelight

I have a flashlight

purchased from Publishers Clearing House

partly on the delusion of winning millions

years ago

falling into the slot: technical writer

which fit as well as anything else

I chafed at the bit

golden chains

seeing who held the reins

not quite visible to most

and certainly not a right livelihood

now I prefer this clipboard

propped up on pillows

as a writing desk

vowing to slip out of the harness

I bided my time

burning up the years of my probation

for being set up and "caught" with a lid of dope

how sweet it wasn't

but when the day came

and gainful employment eminently provable

had fulfilled claims on my time

I became

the gardener

another slot

but this time taking free rein

if you have the guts

and some luck

you, too, can kick over the traces

though it won't be easy

are you in?

then hear the next step

rather more difficult

thing is

no one else will take it for you

or can

good thing is

you find out for yourself

forget books, friends, priests, parents or politicians

it's you already

traces of all you thought you are get unhitched

you become yourself again

so if you've come this far

maybe you're ready

you can do it

sit quietly

don't dwell on thoughts

who is this?

COURAGE

to begin with a footnote*

might seem perhaps

suicide before the firing squad of posterity

as editor, I find it just marginally tolerable

please adjust your goggles

*the standard dictionary has been used

sounds of everyday speech

birds, insects, horses, muni busses

common sense nudging by imperceptible degrees

to the rarified atmosphere

of elephant ears flapping amicably

flies swatting safari jeeps

steamboat river spaceship

going nowhere

yet finds an oak tree hung with mistletoe

melba toast placed tranquilly

on a windowsill overlooking Niagara Falls

and cinnamon tea

lovely as this spider's web

seen first thing on a rainy morning

leprechauns are tumbling

Shakespeare is snoring

kids post intuitively

riding merry go round horses

at the boardwalk

in Santa Cruz

zippity do da!

forgotten during zazen

poof!

a moment without footnotes

ENOUGH SAID?

what could be plainer than this sheet of paper

more audacious than putting words upon it

let them return to nowhere

which brings us to right here

does a flower surrender

each one blooms without authority

there is no decision

 no guide

the roots of our maple tree grow mercilessly

pushing boundaries of the patio

mounds of knotted fingers are jutting knuckles

mocking arthritis in their virility

calling for the weighted axe, loppers, and iron pry bar

why worry about silence

or the soul's trajectory

just chop!

hack and hew

do the job

breathe deeply and take all the air needed

all is forgotten

the slate is blank

like this sheet of paper

before these intrusions

QUIET AFTERNOON

DELICATE DARK PURPLE CLOVER

in a pot on a porch in Santa Clara

vibrant

mute as mittens

minders of their velvet space

a rain of financial advisors

lost in combat

never made it to my porch

so

a cup of green tea steaming

shadows on the fence

sharp silhouettes  of hedge leaves

a gathering of ballet motions

breakfast

chopping carrots and broccoli

somehow like pruning trees

all natural ingredients of the world

quiet shadows

now far beyond what is gone

a mind unpopulated

just itself

everywhere

nowhere

broccoli is like our camphor tree

bulbous in miniature degree

and carrots are like fingers

best pay attention

how can the question be reduced

to chopping carrots

and then laughter

surely such questions are crazy

along with their answers

purple clover in its delicate shade

ultimately the universe

and its privileged perception

are momentary

hey Buddha!

we got your tree

right here in Santa Clara

near the back fence

at El Real Nursery

well, a pine tree actually

carefully trained to look like a real pine tree

loved that tree

and out by El Camino

for the delight of children

a rusted tyrannosaurus rex

and then they went out of business

heartless, is it not, to recall plain facts

purple clover wilting

drought

days of water and roses

a sort of fiction

is it not

though some of it actually happened

as does imagination from time to time

and so

let's have a cup of tea

fact, folly, fiction

shadows on the fence