rain—throughout the night
the hot tub—dreams
drip and hum
**
the shish
of pre-spring rains
outside the window
streams
**
Ego at rest leaves nothing
but listening
or is that ego’s play
we’re hearing?
Either way and both,
our teachers say
the only way
is to listen
to what we hear.
**
Real teachers always leave
something you can’t let go.
**
At the memorial…
Brad…
your aging face reveals you
there beneath the same eyes,
that ready smile.
Max…
the sudden hail-storm
speaks of the gentle warmth
you’ve left behind.
**
The crows warned, but I ignored
—there under the pine
with twisted limbs
in shadow—
kept walking.
Ikkyu is said to have stopped.
**
Going to class…
Teacher calls orders,
Moms lift their phones, kids
obey—kind-of.
**
the grandson
at his age, too little patience
for wrong turns—at mine,
too little time
**
date unknown—that the sun
breaks gold horizon hues
doesn’t say enough
**
A lift of the eyes—
all it takes to see daylight
taking the window.
**
Window glass traces
of lamp light illumine blossoms
along the fence.
**
Beneath Mt. Diablo,
San Francisco Bay signals
sky: all’s clear !
**
Amazed at the reach
of his father’s life beyond
fatherhood, we tell stories
there in the dust of his books.
**
Windows in the homes
on east-facing slopes
play catch—rising sun,
telling words, slowly
letting go.
**
Elson—I’ve heard tell
you translated Chinese
to napkins.
**
The books…
brushing dust away,
emerging titles reveal
endless curiosity shared.
**
The not so full moon
drops beyond the ridge
before I’m out the door,
but not before
exchanging
glances.
**
The breeze-less morning
lacks nothing.
**
Fog moved in and out
while I slept last night, snail-like
traces on the deck.
**
Birds love the flower
boxes outside our window—
nest supplies.
**
The specificity of the poem marks
the heart—why insist upon a date?
**
Poems lurk
where individual breaths
carry scent of more.
**
Edit—like following a squirrel
tracing its way back
to buried nuts.
**
Garden coffee, prayer flags,
nectar-sweetened nostrils
and the promise of rain—
all Buddha’s names.
**
Magnanimous night sky,
replete with the wisdom
of star light.
**
murmurs float
from floor beneath
carpet soft
to bared feet
rains fall
to tarps spread
to cradle
dreams of drops
**
Deep pink blossoms wave
against the fence
beyond the bounce
and spring
of windowed bamboo leaves,
falling rain’s call
to inner warmth
and quiet.
**
