Understanding

I may not understand history
And philosophy escapes me
But the cool breeze frees me
Running up my bare arms

Life and Death

Life and death is energy
With birth no atom is added
With death no particle lost
Therefore life is the unborn
Death is the unextinguished

Light and Dark

Light and dark, walk hand in hand
through the depths of the night
Together we can see the mountains
We can see the depths of valleys
They have it all for us.

Rain falling

Listen to the rain falling
Little the patter of feet
Each storm that is missed
Is an experience tossed away
When clouds form in the Rockies
Rain falls in the Catskills
Live the storm's wonder

The Peak

The way to the top
Is difficult and hard
The path is strewn with rocks
And when the peak is reached
It is covered in heavy mist
Yet the entire path has been
A peak unto itself too.

Fork in the Road

A man sat at a fork in the road. Every time someone came along, he waited to see which way they went. If the person went to the left, he shook his head sadly and sighed loudly. If the person went to the right, he smiled to him and wished him a pleasant day.

This went on for a long time. Finally one day a young boy stopped and inquired of the man, "Why do you sit here?"

"Why not, these people obviously need my guidance and wisdom."

"But you say the same thing each time. You shake your head and sigh whenever anyone goes left and you smile and are pleasant whenever anyone goes right. There is no guidance and, as for wisdom, I see none. Both paths join together again 100 yards down the way."

"yet in all the time I have greeted people, you are the only one who has been wise enough to observe this. half the people change paths and half the stumble and act confused as they go along, no matter how many times they have gone down the paths. Obviously they need some help. I simply provide one of life's necessary services."

Wild Lavender and the Fire Phoenix

There once grew some wild lavender. Now normally lavender does not grow wild, but is a very domestic plant, tame, following all the rules. But this lavender never lean to follow the rules and it grew wild and free; well, as wild and free as lavender can grow. It had long stems and flowing sprouts and the aroma was everywhere. Lots of people liked the aroma but did not necessarily enjoy the freedom of the lavender and tried to curtail the wildness of the plant. The lavender resisted all attempts to set limits on it.

In the same region lived a fire phoenix. This was an older phoenix and very wise. He was a free bird and no one messed with the phoenix, but then the phoenix did not bother anyone either. He had learned, wisely, to respect the boundaries of others and to avoid the needless conflicts of the world around him. He lived by a motto, “You leave me alone, and I’ll leave you alone.” It worked out well for him.

One day he encountered the wild lavender. He was fascinated by the plant – both by the beauty of the growth, and the aroma it emitted, and the wondrous color of the lavender. Since lavender was a plant and not a being, he began to spend time with it, to cultivate it. He watered it and brought it plant food. He trimmed it and pampered it and the lavender grew ever brighter in his presence.

Yet the lavender was wild and the phoenix was a fire bird and the two would never be close. Eventually the phoenix realized the plant would always be wild and could not be tamed. No matter how much attention he paid the lavender, it continued to grow in sporadic manners and could not be brought into boundaries.

There came a day when, in the middle of a field, apprentices could be seen compiling a giant funeral pyre of wood. Logs of all sizes were brought forth from miles around and added to the pyre. Kindling was inserted at the base and the pyre was set in the cleared field. People began to gather. They came from the villages and from the farms. They came from near and far. A phoenix rebirth was about to occur and none wished to miss it.

When all had gathered, the phoenix made his entrance. He brought with him the wild lavender, now potted and wheeled to the edge of the pyre to be with the phoenix at his moment of glory. The phoenix raised a wing to hush the crowd and spoke.

“A phoenix lives 500 years. During his life he gathers a tremendous volume of wisdom and knowledge. At the end of the 500 years, he sets a funeral pyre, enters it and emerges a new-born bird, to start again the cycle. I have lived a long life and have learned many things. I have learned I do not like many beings or to be among others. I found a love for this wild lavender, as it does not talk back or argue with me. However, plants, like people and birds, have longevity too and soon outlive their purpose. Such is life. Now the end is upon us and entry to the pyre must occur.”

With that the apprentices lit the kindling and the fire ignited and the funeral pyre flames danced to the heavens. Fire lighted the sky and the crowds pushed back. The phoenix stepped forward and, in one mighty motion, thrust the lavender into the fire. “My time is not upon me but the lavender is done. May something better emerge from this.”

Of course nothing emerged from the fire. The phoenix turned out to be not so smart after all. The fire consumed the plant completely and the phoenix waited for naught. The lesson is, don’t assume that because something works for you, it works for everyone.

Night and Light

It is the middle of the night
Yet there is still light
In the middle of the light
There is still the night
The truth of this is yet to be
Within the realm of reality

Trampled

Trampled to death by living
A man has come to life
A glimpse of humanity for him
And the whole world lives

Contentment

If the world contained only you and I
Still would I be content
For nothing more do I need for me
For my soul to be at rest

Clearing the way

When the illusion is dissolved
The light can emerge
Then the self can be forgotten
And things fade away
As the way finally becomes clear

Vision

When you see, all things are one
If you don't, they remain separate.
When you fail to see, there is one
If you do, they become different.

Traveling

You go, only to arrive.
Yet you get there, no house.
You leave, planning a trip
Only to find, no destination.
Eventually you ponder this.
How can this be; here you are?
Right here where you've always been.

Learning

Self-wise professors who talk all the time
Fail to utter a coherent sound
The student who is all-knowing in every class
Completely misses the point
Yet even then the world is somehow for us
A much better place to be

Compassion

The river flows through
the valley is so dry
The breeze blows strongly
But no air is felt here
Compassion has found there's
No place to call home here