Tag Archives: poetry

Night of Fire

The red, hot light filled

the sky space between mountain

and dark black clouds,

as if some hell had opened up behind it,

threatening to swallow up

this town and my car and the whole length of road.

Its name is devil mountain

but not because of this,

more because of the sunscorch

that happens when you try to look it in the eye.

This night there is dancing on the other side,

those that cackle at

our plans to picnic and claim it as ours

this place of indescribable…

too hard to ponder.

Now urgent this question of demons

and the swift sloping flight of bird.

Now ashes

mount diablo fire image from isciencetimes

Mount Diablo 2013 fire image from isciencetimes

the side that

I never dreamed of.

 

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Aside

You who arrived complete in the study of not knowing, You who are the flowers bursting forth, revealing your true nature, You who are the voice of the entire suffering world, In the silences between the bells, In the graceful … Continue reading

Practicing Patience with Not Understanding

Here is the link to a talk that I recently gave at San Francisco Zen Center’s City Center:

http://www.sfzc.org/zc/display.asp?catid=1,10&pageid=3327

My previous talks at City Center are posted here:

http://www.sfzc.org/zc/display.asp?catid=1,10&pageid=440

Next up, talks with the Redwood City Zen group on July 22nd, and with the Gay Men’s Buddhist Sangha on August 5th.

The Moon A’painting

As the darkness began to fall,

Emboldened by the hunter’s call,

I slipped into the cool of night,

Gratefully released from exterior walls,

Though not interior ones.

Walking to the water’s edge,

The stars above a great assemblage,

I found the moon a’painting,

It’s brilliance on the distant window ledge,

Or was it only imagined?

A trail of glitter, as though left behind,

The lovely way the water shined,

I was enthralled, yet somber, still,

Could this very moon be only mind?

Surely there were angels.

Surely they sprinkled their dust.

Surely there were fairies among the forest’s trees,

be there must!

But recognizing, in the end,

That the childish ways must always bend,

To the ever flowing dance of water light,

Which fantasies cannot upend.

And so, at last, I laid my head

On the sweet, sweet dew of grass’s bed,

Allowing, allowing the ancient way,

To which I had been gratefully led.

– KMC c. 2012

Do you have an image that would illustrate this poem? Would you like to share it? Please comment!