Time slips by. Now these projects will have to be pushed ahead, piecing together old writings and making them available again. As explained, now that I have more free time, I must assign myself some new hobbies and . . . produce. That’s the best word I can think of. Produce new material, and pull forward from the archives.
All this and late night tea.
Pray for more rest and thank each set of heavens for the ability to – lean forward. To sleep, to sleep at all. To wake up, clear the throat, and as someone said, “Debed and prepare for battle.” Make ready all the small bodily movements. And if you cannot move, think with your mind so storms come up the coast and make themselves known. Love so that objects about the room lose hold of the surface and float in front of eyes. You’ll be seen as a ghost. Lives will change.
I am guilty of not knowing, therefore not loving, the land.
What is mysticism? We’re guilty of despising, not making most of our present, running from it to the future, bragging about, hiding from, the past. Buddha bless this asthmatic breath and tonight’s green tea (no caffeine).
Each thing, I guess I can say it, can be mystical in your eye, if you want it to be. Our automatic responses can be slowed down, everything can be slowed down.
Are we out of our minds? Are we out of our souls? Which do we even possess? God either pulls on me, calls me, or my inadequacies have me running 70 year errands.
actions and thoughts
spill out into
the air
birth new dreams
what I read
shapes me
even if I
can’t see
it happening
water boils
mouth with
winter sores
tenderness
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