The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_
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
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The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_