Returning

Emptiness,

a river rushing

to fullness

Born full of void

each encounter

love and joy

countered with pain

and it’s undoing

like poems falling

from trees in autumn

swept away with

promises of returning

filled with scars

In the undoing

love remains

A river rushing

to a glass half-filled

part everything

part nothing

Everything

returns

whole

Haiku |Our Bodies

Love is not of us,

we exist because of it,

koi fish show no tears.

love does not weaken, confuse, misconstrue; but in our desires we blind ourselves to these truths.

TSH

Poem 49/365:2016

struggle to

love

everything

Poem 47/365:2016

again and again

the waves come and they go wet

to the sea again

poem 32/365:2016

I would be a tree

gouged by termites

to fill my life with vanity

or ungrounded such

that an ax or might

is not so needed

for as precious as air is

I must let it go

from the clutches of my lungs

so to yearn again—to live.

 

poem 29/365:2016

nothing belongs here—

to us even silence comes

full of love and pain

Poem 25/365:2016

Our mothers would say

when the wind blows as a storm

our fathers were returning 

—home

Rumination 64/2016

If you look at a flower and judge it by its stem or its leaves first you are seeing beauty with divided eyes, a bias you impose, but if you look at the totality of the flower it is neither beautiful nor scarred; it is as divine as its Architect. See people for who they are and not for what you disagree with about them, as we are all flowers in the vast garden of the Creator.

if you must pretend, give it your best effort for perhaps it is who you may become, like the caterpillar who pretends to fly…besides, are we not all actors on this stage of reality, whatever that may be.

—Tshombe Sekou

poem 004/365:2016

to drink tea is art—

water brought to a boil,

leaves steeped, and soul cooled