Surprised by day not breaking any more the moon and the sun like two old underground thieves relit the torch and set off. I'm sure that anyone who'd seen their feeble gleam from a distance would have felt sorry for them.
Namo guru! The ocean of mind is stirred by the wind of grasping at subject and object. The childish take the waves of appearance as something to reject. For the wise, the waves are none other than the water itself.
The dancing wavetops poke their tongues Laughing to cry their sadness They swell to catch the painted sky They bend to summon the blackness of the ocean depths Always dancing, turning crisping fall and slide
Our parents stayed during the civil war. Don’t say we escaped, just that we too failed. We left Beirut on the verge of collapse & revolution. That clearing of hope, where would we be without it? Ask Ziad,
Beneath that tree is buried the lifecord. The energy that pulses through that trunk, up into those branches is within us too by a power of exchange, of life-sharing…