A CAPELLA My life is bread-making. Daily I work the dough. My hands blend, shape it into supple balls and then I wait for your sacrament of warm brown flour, sea-salt water, a sprinkled benediction, to expand in me, dissolving this mass becoming a fine leavening....
SUNDAY POEM BODH GAYA So this is where you sat, having vowed not to move until you’d grasped what you were looking for– the root of human suffering. To see things as they are. Girders of life, architecture of light underlying all creation. You met demons,...
SUNDAY POEM MEDITATIONS FROM THE CENTER: 5 In the center of my ribs, a silver salmon leaps In the center of my ribs, a rock of granite from earth to heaven In the shelter of an oak a red-winged blackbird nests In a viridian pond, mallards teach their ducklings to swim...
SUNDAY POEM MEDITATIONS FROM THE CENTER: 4 In the center of my throat is templed silence the Great Void swells in the center of my throat boat skims the sea on wind-whipped sails lanyards sing in the center of my throat underground river-run red-rock canyon-roar in...
SUNDAY POEM MEDITATIONS FROM THE CENTER: 3 In the center of my crown an ocean laughs In the center of my crown a great blue heron skims the rim of Earth In the center of my crown a cloud-wreathed peak pierces the skin of eternity In the center of my crown is a wooden...
