The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_
TRANQUILITY©
THIS PLANET
fool's gold in abundance
moss on trees
cities and machines
pranksters with clever words
warriors of greed
this is not the last planet
perhaps Christ, Buddha, Mohammed
credible colleges elsewhere
there are families of potholes on Benton Street
tonight a big storm will cause them to multiply
birds and dogs are quiet now
lawn mowers do not run in the dark of night
isn't it wonderful?
is this planet personal?
does it care about Venus, Buddha, the moon?
plants are alive
we share secrets inadmissible as evidence
shorthand of space exploration
a fly on the kitchen counter watches carefully
and then
with permission
eats a few crumbs from last night's dinner
as I prepare breakfast
WELL_WELL_WELL
when dunes have settled
do they ever?
something great
perhaps a storm called Titan
the rain has stopped
wind a memory
preternatural calm
the Change
perhaps no one noticed
jewels hanging on trees
youthful beauty
soon to be spent
on the resurrection of Eden
and leaves of grass and neighborhood cats
visiting
though Niagara Falls becomes a glacier
so it seems
is it too cold for earthquakes
a tsunami?
any bees left after the Arctic Blast?
can China's slaveicens see far enough to breathe?
can ours avoid massive pileups?
heavy, heavy news
by no stretch of desperation
entertainment
if presenters don't smile in whiteout conditions
the good news ads will get tarnished
dry, dry summer when massive fires incinerate the Hetch Hetchy watershed
and now massive rain
and next?
any damn fool talking head can guess
but the White House can't lie
now that it's buried under snow
can Mr. Obama escape the irony?
Nirvana Hole
epitaph scratched in wet cement
by a sprinkler head on a residential street
in Santa Clara
WEATHER REPORT
mystery of an anthill before rain
nectar presented to the queen
outside the wind will blow
inside a glow
quiet is enough
the forecast storm
let it blow
this evening's piano played itself
music of the origin
impossible to invent
programmed in the moment
TV blather
an upended snow globe
political debates merge with Cialis ads
legacy ice from the Arctic Blast
melting into floods
the Change
damn fools
some of the people all of the time
more
way more
than one percent
yet not enough to tip scales already weighted with gold
peaceful observations
ladies with parasols and folding chairs
watch the fire after Frisco's quake
prelude to Stanford's blooming
plentiful water and young growing brains
a breeze in the red woods
beneath the forest floor
music of its own origin pushes up
peace beyond comprehension
DEATH
mutations are both loss and gain
creativity implies destruction
a new person is born everyday looking
to the uninformed eye
no different than before
even to the eye that has changed
in some unseen way
rebirth is gradual and constant
mutations flourish or not, depending on conditions
weather, deep roots, an accumulation of intent
neither inevitable nor accidental nor predictable
until one day the new person bids farewell to the old
and says quietly, respectfully
I am reborn
MORNING
every morning the endless debris
then zazen, gardening
dust to dust
then evensong
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The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_