The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_
OUT OF CONTEXT©
ORDINARY LIFE
LONG AGO
in the days of once upon a time
a magical person ingested a mushroom
or perhaps it was the other way around
he had read that in those days magic was alive
the mushroom was like Comet, he said
reporting from personal experience
it cleansed the doors of perception
an experience sorely needed in today's troubled world
being of the Order of Exalted Ones
his words were taken quite seriously
pretty soon musicians were singing about it
a Sitar was imported from India
Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
got cleansed
at last everyone was on the way to nirvana
so I did the trip
scrubbed those doors really, really
oiled them
saw light through some of them
like stained glass in cathedrals
doors most people don't even know are there
mandalas in the sky
without all that tedious meditation
well, folks, let me tell you
he was mistaken
yes, the doors are there
stained glass, mandalas, Sitars and all that
clean them ever so clean
it doesn't matter
not portals to nirvana
nirvana is just a word
which is where the trip began
and so it will end there
nothing external, no experience, no category
will encompass the urge which leads further
even Ken Keysey's bus will not get there
there being no there there
and so all I can say
in the ludicrous event of saying anything at all
is why not go shopping
buy only what you need
mushrooms at the market are fine
have a nice day
it may be your last
but then
who are you?
don't try to read about it
for each and every culture
ordinary life is the way
ORDINARY MAGIC
the gold scale on our front porch in Los Gatos
weighed stardust
if nothing else
a dry well sheltered by our garage
was useless
heaven was avocado leaves in late afternoon glow
green
just before sunset
distance and years forgotten
reincarnated each liquid amber fall
a spangle of cafeteria bracelets trailing sparklers, fireworks
sunbeams just beyond reach
a garden spider's jeweled web
cobble stoned streets
dams of mud, sticks and stones
rivulets and ripples
now taking form
in Santa Clara
NOTHING EXTRAORDINARY
BEYOND THE USUAL DRUM BEAT
birds flutter off to blonde horizons
wood print sky clatters into history
shuffles out of hearing
struggles of the day have reached completion
leaving energy for
a contemplation of leaves
sailors reaching home port
images slowly fading
dust to silt
nude beach rising
at low tide
bang cog raffle day
gargoyles on hot coals
the gods hurl bolts of shimmering silk
spiders gather for a group insurance forum
this entourage of realtors and used car sales(wo)men
bodes well for pickup trucks
lined up like elephants
on their way to a safe deposit box
many bags of corn for popping
butter and salt
postage stamps, once collected
are ripe for hurricanes
all those emperors and nations
superseded
drum beat fading
muscles on a hammock yawning
animal spirits
office drones seek geodesic domes
a new age living
spaces shaped in their origin
let them shuffle
until finally there isn't much to say
nothing extraordinary
write "subscribe" or "unsubscribe" in the subject line of an email to: theroot_us@yahoo.com
The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_