sunrise

grapevine

Dream Catcher

one golden Goldenrod

bonsai junket

Flowers from the pear tree all over the ground
Sunshine too bright for my eyes:
New spring greens come_
and so_when blossoms are at their finest,
I'm likely to cling,
bidding them stay,
only then to wise-up enough to say,
No,They must go;
If not_
There never could be...

_Sweetly delicious pears in a pie!_

peeling pears

the Pears have Ripened! :-)

impermanence

Impermanence rules,
but where I am cannot change;
No matter what comes and goes
I'm always here and it's always now-
I've heard sounds and silence,
seen seclusions and crowds of people-
visited green glens in forests,
painted white stones with steeple;
ate, slept, sung and played,
fussed, laughed, worked- and
yes indeed, through it all- impermanence has
ruled the day,
But I'm always here, it's always now,
and all along the way,
Impermanence flows
and everyone knows
Impermanence in
Here and Now....
-________________________-

bowlObananas

little lotus

Little lotus flower,
all in all in one,
you are all you are:
completely finished,
but only begun__

walking and talking

We walked and talked along the beach
Down by the water's edge,
swishing our bare feet slowly
along with seagulls and sandpipers.
The air was misty, cool, and refreshing.
The Water was warm.
We walked and talked a long time and when
we tired, we sat for a while and rested.
It was a good time.
We watched the sky,
the waves, the birds,
We felt the gentle wind, the
sun, the sand, the mist.
And we talked.
It's nothing big
But also not small
That we left behind
body and mind.

Along the beach
Walking and Talking

wonder of wonders

Full of joy in this early morning
Still feeling sleep in the eyes too;
Thinking to practice meditation mindfully
Even while making morning brew
Wondering wonders too,
like why do we love the earth so much,
and why so exquisite is being alone listening to the
sound of rain on the roof, and wonder of wonders
Being here and now at all?!

experience - Lao Tze

never fade nor fall

Here I sit
on an old rotten log
although it's night time along
these wet dark forest trails.
As beautiful as anything ever was,
they are not hidden nor withered
nor do they run up and down the road.
No, it is their pleasure to stay and talk to
me silently with no words when I watch
clouds and birds.
The sky is silver now with foggy dew
but never desolate nor dejected,
just dripping wet, that's all.
Don't mistake those wet drops for tears.
Eternal earths never fade nor fail
nor let their flowers fall nor pale
Although one comes along and sees
that they have no eye for these.
Here I sit in calm for no reason nor rhyme.
Not that I learned yesterday to
know anything yet about who, why or how
But I do love these new Autumn days in Early Spring,
and in vain I try to tell them so
one more time before I go.................................

memory of next summer

I don't see Cherry blossoms like
Ishikawa Jozan did,
but I see what he means because,...
With Visions of pine needles all
over the Ground,
Sunshine Filling my eyes....
Leaves all raked up and piled into
the mulching bin along with
sycamore, oak, popcorn,
many grains of soil, and myriads of
things invisible to the eye;
Now that the earth is swept clean by
winter's icy wind and boney
bones feel the pain of passing years,
I remember the pleasure of
walking barefoot on carpets of
fallen pine needles and smile with
the memory of the coming summer next.

mirror images

Today is uttering tones of imagination
So different.
It's emphasis on this very moment.
Today is further along the path of wisdom,
Toward the feeling of "I am that,"-
toward seeing myself by looking at
the outer world as mirror images of me.

no beginning no end

stubby pencils

Ryokan made me remember this:

One mile from town, I found a small home.
I traveled back and forth on the road that's
lined with corn fields and patches of cotton.
In winter the aroma of chimney smoke-
In summer the smell of things green and juicy...
We sat on the porch until moonrise then inside to
light the lamp on the kitchen table, writing our
verses with stubby pencils on old school tablets.
...

btb

go beyond beyond
to no beginning no end
go to here and now

lltssip

With abundant rains,
The garden pond's full to spilling over
Ground's steeped,
wetly glistening with moon and stars.

little flower barge

cyclamen

A wave of summer is swelling higher and higher
Blowing ever hotter breezes across the bayou.
"I have to put my weary feet in a pan of water."
That's what Old Papa groaned as he sat
down on the back door step in the shade of the
thickly green chinaberry tree.
Out in the fields since before the crack of
dawn, now ready to eat dinner,
Old Papa's mind feels cool relief knowing
the tomatoes are picked, packed and ready to go.
Old Papa is ready to rest.
For a little while.
Until the burning sun lowers itself down into
the coolness of the bayou bringing up the
misty waters to meet the sky.
Then Old Papa once again will stir his stumps.
Evening chores.
...

lotus in home

today in big easy chair

Today is all scrunched up in a
big easy chair all warm and
cozy like a kitten in a corner.
It's a day like no other day, yet
it's a day like all the other days in
that it didn't just begin at
wake-up time, it just melted into
itself.
Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow:
All melting into one another:
All being
one long, continuously shining
string of pearls on this one round
necklace of Today.

polished mirrors

Our house is out in a field,
clean, vast and gleaming.
It's like a field of wheat,
one of those time honored,
golden fields of grain.
Every tall and limber
stalk of it letting
sunshine glow from
each and every one of
their husky little top-hats.
Amid vast landscapes,
living beings speed by on
interstate highways looking
out at waving fields of
grain whizzing by,
dotted with what looks from
the viewpoint of the
people in the speeding
car like tiny doll-sized
farmhouses
with a few tall trees clustered
around each one, which are
the only trees to be seen in
any direction, not even so
much as a hedgerow.
Nothing but a clean, vast gleam.
Fields of gold.
How amazing that we can't polish
it into brightly shining mirrors.
If so, we could look into
them un-awakened and watch
wisdom cover over our foolishness.
...

...

...

Vapors rise up from the river,
Looking for all the world like
hot steam rising from pots on the stove.
A mockingbird sings to the light of
the midnight moon.

Mind clear.

...

closing eyes to see
quietness is real
knots come easily unraveled
things fall into their appointed place
movements lose frenzy
time disappears
everything flows smoothly

sailing

wake-up walk

Through a bank of tall pines,

and over the rail of our barge

vapor rolls out from the river in

fragrant white clouds;

I went ashore early for

a wake-up walk along the

path of Sages.

Beyond this floating camp,

Will I ever understand

The roots and flavor of time?...

shapes of space

The shapes are strings.
Very un-ordinarily ordinary
Strings. And those
CoLOrs!!
Colors and shapes
Out of this world.
Must've come from
some flower unfurled.
Must've been captured as they
traveled through space;
If you lie out in the sun,
you'll feel them on your face...

...

warmth of a silken scarf

It only took a silken scarf to
warm my shoulders in the cool of early day
a few steps around the zazen walk
to bring sunbeams and birds back into the place where they play
Clouds scatter all over the sky inviting rain to
gather and fall,
My heart melts to hear a mellow voice that
I recall,
And though an observer might not see so,
I feel my mind/body as clear as polished glass.
9/8/2006

skyward

Leaning over the kitchen sink

To see up and out skyward at
Moonrise.
That big old orange moon!
I know it will later
grow smaller and whiter,
but now in its space nestled amongst
the old pine tree limbs it's like a
big round plate full of
something delicious to
look at and to feel forlorn with;
I droop my head
Sink into dreams
Then when I raise my eyes again
That Splindid Moon has become
a beacon of white light,
to guide me through the night!

...

peace

Summer growing more golden,
More mellow, with early
morning coolness lasting all the
way into delicious lunches outside on
the porch with mockingbirds flitting
around on grass now growing just a
little more bugful for them.
Although we watch the world of
mockingbirds hunting and eating bugs,
we know Peace is the password.

ovia

Click>>>>http://oviaiamsef.spaces.live.com/

Be Still

sweet dreams

After fresh rain on the fields,

Then comes evening and the

very welcome cool of night.

A QuarterMoon gleams in

it's dark sky;

The pines point upward like

cathedral spires.

One lone cardinal lingers for one last
sunflower seed at the feeder then

flies off to find his bed.

The watermelon-green smell of

fresh-cut grass is gone for a while,
but a body is happy in this place.
...

purple air

... Faint purple air stretches
into shining heaven:
Imaginary images rising to birth;

There to inspire another earth,
Where pathways up mountains
'tween boulders sprung
mong'st flowering thorns and
vines they hung

glittering lights in morning wet
mysterious secrets not solved yet.

ovia

http://oviaiamsef.spaces.msn.com/

mirror, mirror, see the moon

Found the mirror on a back shelf in the pantry...

it was dirty, dusty, couldn't see a thing in it.

With trembling hands, wondering what
I would see when I looked at me,
I cleaned the mirror throughly,

rubbing until it was clear and transparent...

Reflecting emotions as yet unfelt.
Wait.
Time will break the mirror.
Reality will fall broken to the ground:
Myriads of reflections unendingly found.

___________________________________________

wet clouds fall

Wet clouds fall in fine drops swirling in the wind;

Eaves drip vagrant pools onto black flagstones below.

Brightly glowing, the moon without a word, rises

up over the brushwood gate.

don't know what art is

don't know what art is
can't define it
don't know what people are either
can't define 'em!
takes all sorts they say, every which a way.
to make a pretty picture
to make a recipe right
takes a little darkness
takes a little light.

no matter what it is
no matter whatchamacallit

back to end to start,
art is art is art is art.

(that's from ago again)
:-)

Poinsettia Glowing

All day long

the sun shines into my tiny home,

A large Poinsettia Plant Glowing
redly, greenly and brightly beside the glass door,

It's darks and lights perfectly proportioned.

On the wall, several old pictures painted by long ago.

There's a little modern-day stove,

where nothing is cooking.

some todays

Here's some of the "todays" I wrote to my MSN
Group: Zen:Study and Practice:

~~TODAY~~ flurries fall
Like white flakes, red leaves, footsteps

People doing things
...

Today floats like a raincloud,
One in a sea of miles and miles;

Showering flowering...
Spring.

...

TODAY
Mounds of earth shaped likebig cigars

Lay out there side by side

Covered with monkey grass

Pebbles.Grains of sand.

Sea gulls fly overhead making

Sounds that lift eyes from

Mounds to sky.

That's the last thing we saw today

A seagull flew so far and high

That it disappeared into the sky.

...

We cry some days.
We laugh some days.
Sometimes we are serious.
Sometimes we are silly.

Always we are human.
We're all in it together.

every day

...

~~TODAY~~a vast panarama--

In every direction

changing, changing, changing

There was a time we thought we were moving
Now we think we are still

and everything else is moving

Which is which,
One?
The Other?

Neither?

Both?

____________________________

...

Today
the wind stopped blowing.

It rained.

We played around on deck for a while in

the rain, soaking up those big, wet,

delicious drops and licking it off ourlips as

it streamed down our face.
It was big fun!

...

Today
There's the sound of Seagulls,
Surf lapping so lazily that for
sure it must be about to fall asleep.
Sand dunes, rustling sea oats,
Salty breezes stirring up feelings of
bliss...

...

Today's so beautiful,

no tongue cantell it.

So mysterious,

Only No mind can know it.

...

Today

"That's silly,"

said old man hinder-icks,

as he scratched his stubbly chin with one

of his long, strong, bony toes.

...

Today
(modified...it's all zen...) :-)
One job to do:
One job and one job only:
Take care of self.
Live.
When walking walk .
When sitting, sit.
Talking, quiet;
Moving, stillness,
The calm within
Inside this moment...

Moment to Moment.

...

With abundant rains,

The garden pond's full to

spilling over

Ground's steeped,

wetly glistening with

moon and stars;

Walk out with wonder and

wake forever

From long nights sleep.

...

http://oviaiamsef.spaces.msn.com/

http://oviaiamsef.spaces.msn.com/

The thing about it
is that it's all is in
this very moment.
No use
looking
somewhere else,
it is here,
it is now. –

little gallery of zen1

My Happiness

My happiness lives at
home here with me.
We build a small fire for
these soggy wet days of
autumn rain.
That's where we roast nuts,
boil thick broths to drink,
and cook delicious things
on skewers.
We sit crosslegged,
So close to the flames that we can
feel the heat on our face.
We gaze dreamily at
the flickering flames.
We watch hot embers glow.
Yesterday we learned how to know
That tomorrow will surely be snow.
It's true!
Our skis stand in the corner ready to go
That's how we know it is so.