first there is a mountain..

then there is no mountain..
then there is!

there is a teaching in the buddhist tradition
about gift giving and offerings..
that offering an inappropriate gift
may lead to impure consequences.
(ie: alcohol to one who is addicted to the substance!)

so it seems....
although freeing the caged birds was indeed
an act of kindness and compassion..
offered with pure intention..
......
had i thought it out a bit more clearly,
i would have seen the consequences of my actions
as not quite as auspicious..
the results not quite as compassionate..

you see, now that the word was out..
that the forengi was giving big bucks for caged birds..
there was a rush on cages..
... and birds of every shape and size and colour!

this morning as i had my morning milk tea
gazing at the 80 foot buddha..
there was a conference of birds upon his holy head.
i imagine the conversation...

may human beings wake up and stay awake!

like a bird....

on a wire,
like a drunk
in a midnight choir..
i have tried,
in my way
to be free....

leonard cohen

there is a practice
in the buddhist tradition
to free animals..
those that will go to the slaughterhouse for food,
fish that will be caught..
birds in a cage...

along the road to the mahabodhi temple
there are boys who have caged birds...
golden finches of every hue..
green, long tailed parrots..

i had decided to empty a cage full
and my dharma pal, lorraine joined me in the release..
we offered the young busker 1000 rupees..
which is about 25$+ u.s. ..
alot of money for the bird boy..

we took the cage to the nearby park;
as lorraine offered up the four immeasurables..

may all beings have happiness and the cause of happiness,
may all beings be free of suffering and the cause of suffering,
may all beings never be parted
from the happiness that knows no suffering,
may all being abide in equanimity
without attachment or aversion to near or far.

we were witnessed and recorded by passer-bys..
on their cell cameras..
a group of young boys recited the prayers with us..
and around 30 yellow finches found their way
to the skies once more...

when asked why..?
we replied: wildlife conservation!
moksha..liberation!

freedom!

heart pounding

the daijokyo temple is the last temple on temple road!
directly across the path..right outside my window,
is an 80 foot buddha statue made from sandstone...
around it are 10-12 smaller statues..buddha's disciples.

when i reached the guest house yesterday,
i was greeted by kiran lama-la who offered me
an entire cake in the shape of a heart!
it tasted alot like sallie's pound cake..
this one with cherries soaked in brandy for added flair!

i saved a few choice slices then gave the rest away to
all those who i see along my path each day..

sunjai is my water and cough drop stop..
his smile really is as brilliant as the sun..
last night in the gloaming under a smoky moon,
i heard his voice wave me a happy christmas..

the mother and daughter team who live on the street..
the daughter dutifully yet o so lovingly
oiling and combing mataji's hair..

the guard at the ATM stand..

the young boy and his friend
who sold me a map of india..
i was his very first customer..or so he said!

the men who sweep the buddha statue grounds
with such grace you imagine they are tai-chi masters..

...and all the rest..
beggars on the streets, a nun or a monk..
a rickshaw driver..

the very rickshaw driver that i changed places with..
here the rickshaws are cycles;
the drivers are men who seem ancient!
they have legs as big around as my wrists
but are as strong as the water buffaloes on the roadside..

i always walk to the temple but this particular morning,
i decided to climb on the cycle myself and give the driver a ride..
of course, i would pay him the 10 rupees.
his 'shaw was a mish-mash of chains and pedals and spokes.
i had to keep using the brakes
just to keep the tires going in a straight line..
it got to be too much..so i turned it over to him..
10 rupees too!

we had a good heart laugh and a pound of cake!
christmas cake..butter, sugar and the bright light of spring!

solstice full moon buddhafields

gaya is only a few kilometres from bodhgaya,
the most holy of holies for those who enjoy
the middle way of the buddha..
a cutting from the very bodhi tree is strongly rooted
and grows quite large in the courtyard
of the mahabodhi temple..now a world heritage site.
the grounds are full of pilgrims
from every buddhist tradition..
there are dozens of prostrating boards
for those who are doing 100,000 bows
to the awakened pristine awareness!
offerings of butter lamps and small bowls of marigolds
decorate the walls and stupas..
with strands of marigolds draped everywhere!
as the sun heats up, the fragrance blossoms..
we are all blessed with the saffron medicine.

the 17th karmarpa is from the kagyu tradition
of tibetan buddhism; the sangha is holding the 25th kagyu monlam..
prayers from 6 am to eventide..
teachings on milarepa's 100,000 songs..
~mahamudra transmission~
akshobya pujas and prayers..
tea and rolls are served every day to thousands of pilgrims..
lotus flowers adorn the greenery..

i am staying at the daijokyo guest house
away from the maddening crowd..
praise be!
the guest master is the kind, generous
kiran lama..
he reminds me of sallie ..
(tho' he is younger than i )
her gracious way when she ran the nantucket inn..

he is making christmas cakes..
~i get a piece on christmas day~
and every full moon he makes rice pudding
in honor of the buddha's enlightenment..
a young girl offered the buddha rice and milk,
2550 years ago, to give him the strength to wake up!
kiran lama-la's recipe is known throughout bodhgaya
because of the subtle flavors..raisons..cashews..
guess what i had for breakfast?

netaji subhash bose

the route from kolkutta to gaya is an international flight..
it caused a bit of confusion for the guards..
some of the most handsome men in india..
or else some of the most ornery!
as i was walking through the door at the domestic airport,
an ornery guard sent me packing to the international sector..
silly me, it was still dark and i took a taxi..
or rather, the taxi took me for 50 rupees..
i could have walked..
which i did at least three times
back and forth from the domestic to international;
forth and back until... emaho!
someone took pity on me..and we found that..
indeed!
it IS an international flight
to yangoon with a stop in gaya..
who knew?

my new flight name is:
dunja lingwooms!

the airport in kolkutta is:
netaji subhash bose
international airport

while i was waiting
for my international flight to yangoon
with a stop in gaya..
i met a young spanish woman..angela..
she had noticed the peace is healthy patch
on my pack..
yes! my walking pack..
we spoke about the small steps each of us can take
to have peace in our lives..
moment by moment..
day by day..
every hour on the hour..

i am sending her father ..
who teaches english..
the peace stickers in all three languages..

CONFESSION!
inconceivable!
i left the u.s.a. without a single peace cling..
unbelievable!

why don't we do it in the road? part 2

under the streetlight on the corner,
one can get ones ironing done..
even at midnight..
here in bodhgaya, you can get
a head massage, shave and a haircut
(with the mirror hanging from a tree!)
how about your grave stone carved and cut?
bullock carts,
small horses pulling colourful carts..
prayer shawls and monk's robes..

why don't we do it in the road?

the road..
where there is every kind of every thing happening..
welding..without safety glasses and sparks a flyin'..
skinning goats, sheep and chickens..
typewriters waiting to compose lettres and legal docs..
men hanging out to whiz along the high walls..
women carrying vessels of water.. laundry..

every kind of everything for sale!
from bras and panties to sliced papaya dusted with road grime..
calendars, santa claus hats, badminton rackets,
recharge your phone, hot chips..

no wonder it is difficult
to put two and two together..
walking highway one south to san francisco
had a one-pointed intent..
here..this..now..
thoughts are as wilde as the road itself..

heading to calcutta..
then to gaya/bodhgaya
for the kagyumonlam with HH, the 17th karmapa..
where teachings on the medicine buddha and
the stories of milerapa will be the skyway..

rock a bye babe

searching for a new home for my dear friend, sudha
has been illuminating, exhausting..rewarding..
converting lakhs into dollars has been challenging also..
what IS the rate of the falling dollar?

traveling by rickshaw in a city of 7 million,
the pollution rises
along with the screeching of brakes, honking of horns,
right into the central channel of the spine
via tender nostrils!

the sites we viewed for a new home were varied;
the sights seen from the moving "took~took"
were even more eye-widening..

three young children..
so small and brown and barely dressed
were playing in an empty plot of land..
one small girl was gently caressing a brick baby..
holding it with such love..cooing, stroking, rocking..
the young boy had a piece of styrofoam..
he had made some design and was steering it into...?
outer space, per chance..
the third small girl was watching the child mother
with eyes of admiration..

on our way out of the village,
all three were in a box boat..
roiling on the high seas
heading to tahiti, i imagine...
where winds are cool,
fruit is sweet..
doll babies are made of cloth.

sharma executive sleeper

there is an overnight bus that
travels to pondicherry
on the coast of the bay of bengal..
it is a sleeper,
which means,
you actually book a bunk
where you can stretch out
and... if you are lucky...
sleep!

i had been up late the night before..
at the movies
aaja nachel

sleep came easy..
the rains had come to bangalore
and followed us~
swade and victor and me..
so pondi and auroville's red mud
(hello, north carolina!)
caked up happily on the bottom of our shoes..

we are waiting for our pass to
the matri mandhir..
the centre of auroville..
the huge ..biggest in the world, i'm told..
(well, the biggest in southeast asia)
crystal that juices up this coastal region.

we are staying in the middle of the forest
with an indian family;
duray, the papa of two,
has been in auroville since he was seven.
he actually helped build the meditation hall..

lunch at the solar kitchen..o my o

it is muggy, moist and mosquito-y..
perfect indian weather, acha?

kashaya

this is a great drink for the tender care
of scratchy throats and coughs due to colds..

clear, cool water
cumin seeds (1/2 tsp.)
garlic (2-3 small cloves crushed)
ginger (about 3/4 inch)
turmeric powder (1/2 tsp.)
peppercorns (5-7)
jaggery - an indian sugar..
if you cannot get it,
add honey AFTER you boil..

boil for about 3-5 minutes.
add sweetness..
drink and heal!

it is a soothing drink if you've been
in rickshaws all day attempting to
gather funds from a finicky ATM card!

rusty pipes

india!
how does one begin to share the stories
that arrive moment by moment as the days
go by in mother india..?

starting with the bucket showers,
the bucket laundry,
the bucket toilets..
buckets!

the rickshaws..
the traffic jams in bangalore,
the earth caked on the inside of one's throat..
the chalk kollams drawn in front of houses,
the dogs..the tea..
the dosas!

i am rusty on the keyboard;
my thoughts can't seem to find
focus to tell the tales..

slow and small to this vast hindustan..
it has changed since i began traveling here in 1976..
the world has grown beyond itself..
the world rests on the head of a pin..

teatime..
acha!

dunjams

dunjams lingwood...

this is the name as it appeared on my e-ticket to india.
it quite aptly described the way i felt after 36 hours
of up, up and away..

the shower at a-dam airport helped a great deal
but by the time i arrived in bangalore (bengaluru)
with furry teeth, wiggly-piggly legs,
flattened bum and saw-dust eyeballs..
i was dunjams..
no doubt, honey!

reading material on flight:
the curious incident
of the dog
in the night-time
a novel by
mark haddon

movies on board:
no reservations
evening
the simpsons movie
apne (barely bollywood)

i was gifted miles by a generous flight attendant,
was on the plane with a yoga teacher
i knew from seattle,
and did not sleep a wink!

just call me dunjams!

nothing is written*

*lawrence of arabia

the sign of the time

so... i am signing off
of peace is healthy..
bidding a fine adieu
to all the libraries,
all the cars along the highway..
everyone who has fed me,
clothed me..put me up ..
(put up with me!)
the red-wings, the rain, the dogs..
the homeless..
those who waved
and
those who didn't..
to watermark and how it works..
to all the e-mailers who mailed me..
to duck, my finest, unfeathered friend..
to each and every family ..
it is huge..
it will continue to grow
as i continue ...

to finish the moment,
to find the journey's end
in every step of the road,
to live the greatest number of good hours,
is wisdom.
-emerson

i'll add to that.. peace!

keeping things whole

the first entry of the blog ..
i move to keep things whole
moving further into now..

pure intent

the walk south was complete.
i was peaceful for most of it, (still am..)
had nano-seconds of equanimity, (still do)
and carried only a small pack..simplicity!
all the intentions - covered..

the porcelain cup

all that babbled about,
i am a spoiled one..
i like hard beds, hot showers,
tea in a porcelain cup!
i have a preference for clean underwear,
face creme and my sonicare toothbrush.
i want my own yoga mat, a calligraphy pen
and candles to light.
soft, spoiled, and way too precious..
(i did leave home without a sleeping bag!)

fearlessness

i am not a camper..used to be..
somewhere in the '60s and '70s..
how greatly do i admire those
who wander about with packs or none..
who sleep under bridges..
who encourage the great outdoors in their hearts..
those brave climbers, the heroes of mountains..
the multitudes of the homeless ones..
the heroes of the streets..
i admire the freedom..the detachment..
the fearlessness.

suspended disbelief

my esteemed project manager,
dave, the duck has spent
hours
upon
hours
figuring routes, scratching his head,
printing maps, scratching his head,
discussing the hazards, scratching my head (!)
reviewing the challenges and heads up!
we both arrived at the decision
to suspend the walk across the u. s. of a.

no doubt

i have spent the last few weeks
wringing my heart out..
(jeepers, that's no fun!)
about a journey not complete.
no doubt there is more walking in me..
it will take preparation-
inner and outer.
i am not yet the proper tool
for the proper job!

into the mystery

south was the walk..thus far..
what a walk!
a walk away from
home, family, work, and place..
into the unknown..
a walk straight in to new
homes, families, work and place..
..the unknown..
we walk in the mystery
every moment of every day.

crazy wisdom

riding on the edge of a light beam
what else to say?
"crazy wisdom" uncoiling!

a wrinkle in time

it seems time and timely
to close the book on the blog..
..on the walk..

nothing is written*

*lawrence of arabia

more emerson

barbara's mother, loel says that
if she was marooned on a desert island,
the one author she would take is emerson.

he would definitely be in my satchel..
here's why -

" everything good is on the highway.
the middle region of our being
is the temperate zone.
we may climb into the thin and cold realm
of pure geometry and lifeless science,
or sink into that of sensation.
between these extremes is the equator
of life, of thought, of spirit, of poetry -
a narrow belt.
moreover, in popular experience,
everything is on the highway."

"a foolish consistency
is the hobgoblin
of little minds.
speak today what you think today
in words as hard as cannon-balls,
and tomorrow speak what tomorrow thinks
in hard words again,
though it contradict
everything you said today."

"there are no fixtures in nature.
the universe is fluid and volatile.
permanence is but a word of degrees.
...every thing looks permanent
until its secret is known."

see what we mean?

three secrets of the summit

*drink tea

*take care

*rest


-blue cliff record

channel 9 / real age

* walk 30 minutes a day
rain, sleet or snow..
(you must walk your dog every day
even if you don't have one.)

*floss daily

*call a friend

these are just a few hints
for a healthy life..

how can i keep from singing?

my life goes on in endless song,
above earth's lamentation.
i hear the real, though far-off song,
that hails a new creation.

no storm can shake my inmost calm,
while to that rock i'm clinging.
it sounds an echo in my soul.
how can i keep from singing?

although the storms around me blow,
i know the truth will guide me,
although the darkness 'round me grow,
my song's the light beside me.

no storm can shake my inmost calm,
while to that rock i'm clinging.
since love is lord of heaven and earth,
how can i keep from singing?
-anna bartlett warner


what a proclamation!

when i sing, there are no other
thought forms in my mind..
unless of course i can't remembre
the words..then i struggle to
excavate the text from layers
of shale upon sand upon dust
until finally..(or not)
the words burst forth..
just like the sound of music..alive!
the song's the light inside me.

some weeks ago, barbara and i
attended three choral concerts..
the first was up in san francisco
at grace cathedral..
the cathedral is the hostess
to two labyrinths; it is a mystical
vortex in the centre of the city..
the vaulted ceilings open the heart
to the greatness we embody..
we recognize our self here!

chanticleer hoisted us up to the roof tops
with the commissioned mass..
and on earth peace.
it was created by five different
composers; each of different faiths..
catholic, sufi/islam, judiasm..
greek orthodox and gaelic/celtic..
awe-inspiring and haunting,
the mass left us somewhat uneasy..
knowing that peace is a raw thing..
momentary, fleeting..every instant..
our vigilance is tested to choose ..
to choose peace in every single breath.

the next concert was in monterey
at the royal presidio chapel..
an olde adobe church..
the concert was entitled:
o beautiful for spacious skies
sung by the camerata singers.
the concert opened with
i can't keep from singing.
one could tell that the singers
would be hard pressed to keep
their voices to themselves,
such was their unfettered joy in song.
barbara would love to have
america the beautiful
as our national anthem!

the last concert of the week-end
was at the sunset cultural centre
in carmel where the monterey symphony
serves the community..
we were enchanted by brahams
the german requiem.
this was a piece with two choirs
(monterey symphony chorus/san jose symphonic choir)
joining together and two soloists who
granted us their magic..
loel joined us for this concert.
she enthused us to the trombone;
which she had played in her younger years.

we were all gathered up
on the wings of voice,
of horn and timpani
and transported ...
into high mansions of calm.

it is said that there are many more choirs
appearing every where these days;
many voices raised on high..to sing..

love is the lord of all-
we can't keep from singing!

a pledge in time

when i began this walk of peace,
many folks offered a pledge of
support by depositing
donations in the saint terrer
account @ wa fed..
sending monies
to the p.o. box..
etc.

those very pledges have kept
me wandering south with food,
water and a wee sense of security.

i am greatful, indeed!
to have had that part
of the journey tended to..
it showed me that the many who offered
saw the value of the walk..
taking a step along with me.

now that the walk has turned a corner,
slid into second base
and been re-written as quest..
for the same grail cake,
i might add..
(that's peace, simplicity and equanimity)
i imagine that the donors may have
some second base thoughts themselves!

i hearby release you from your
kind offers and pledges..
thank you with palms together
for the generosity to date
and ask that if you still
have a keen sense to support
peace is healthy..
please donate any pledges to
how it works through watermark
(360 293 4277)
for the peace is healthy glossies
to continue their way around
the grande and peaceful universe..
(in more than one language..)
we are hoping for spanish soon, si?

gracias!

week of may 30th

rob brezsny's gemini horoscope:

"this week's horoscope draws
on the wisdom of gemini philosopher
ralph waldo emerson.
his soaring perspective
is a perfect fit for your current
astrological omens.
here's the first:
all life is an experiment.
the more experiments you make
the better.
emerson no.2:
what is a weed?
a plant whose virtues
have never been discovered.
here's your third emerson clue:
she who is not every day
conquering some fear
has not learned the secret of life.
let's finish with this..emerson no.4:
do not go where the path may lead.
go instead where there is no path
and leave a trail."

grazing on stillness

white deer,
brought here
from the mountains of the east
for hunters to aim at,
now grazing in sweet grass,
peaceful among their sisters.
slanting sunlight warms their fur
as they nibble tender plants.
there is stillness and balance
in the winnowing air.

So does our own spirit path
bring us out of the high mountains
where we touch the sky,
descending into a life
of ensnarement and stealthy appetite,
on the run most of the time
as the juggler tosses fate into the air.

until finally we too seek
the sweetest grass,
the stillest air,
and find beside us the juggler,
also at rest.
-gaila mackenzie

on may 13th, mother's day..
i stood still.
for the five minutes after 1 pm,
a group of women, children and
babies gathered to stand in silence.
suzanne k. had posted the place..
(standing women.org)
the gazebo
at jewell park
in pacific grove..

we formed a semi-circle,
facing out to the street..
the sun was warm,
the aire was still..
drivers looked up
as they rounded the curve,
questions in their eyes..

we had an answer -
stillness.

we do..we must.. come down
from the mountains that refresh us.
we come down to be the balance,
to graze on the kindness of others,
to gift back our own offering of love.

changing the world and standing still

do you want to improve the world?
i don't think it can be done.

the world is sacred.
it can't be improved.
if you tamper with it, you'll ruin it.
if you treat it like an object, you'll lose it.

there is a time for being ahead,
a time for being behind;
a time for being in motion,
a time for being at rest;
a time for being vigorous,
a time for being exhausted;
a time for being safe,
a time for being in danger.

the master sees things as they are,
without trying to control them.
she lets them go their own way,
and resides at the center of the circle.
tao de ching-29

we hopped the amtrak in salinas.
barbara and i headed to santa barbara
on my birthday to visit marilyn,
see odysseus and mend the world!

train travel is one of the perfect go-aheads.
fast and slow at the same time.
the coast starlight travels along the edge.
one of my favorite pastimes!

barbara had prepared a bag full of provisions;
we had books, crossword puzzles,
(thanks to loel) and death valley playing cards.
we had each other to ourselves..

felicity was heading south with her two young sons
to visit grandmother and grand papa.
she and the boys had a quality and presence
that opened out to the landscape.
while barbara and i were
creating a virtual tarot reading,
felicity quietly 'grokked'
the magic and mystery of it!
we enjoyed one another's company;
she told us of the 13 grandmothers.
http://www.grandmotherscouncil.com/

when we disembarqued,
she gifted me her turquoise necklace
as company on my journey.
we will meet again, she said,
as we bowed our good-byes
laced with namaste.

we arrived late, a bit rail weary.
marilyn met us at the station.
rejoicing in our rendezvous,
we headed to her home where birthday soup,
birthday cake and surprizes were waiting!

i had envisioned marilyn, barbara and me
making 'free hugs' signs over the long
week-end and placing ourselves on a
busy corner in santa barbara,
joining the freehugscampaign.org
barbara and marilyn agreed to the adventure.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vr3x_RRJdd4

the next day was busy..
i was to meet a woman in the neighboring towne
who had a cat and a house that needed sitting.
we required paper for our hug project.
there was a mending circle where a group of
fine women gathered monthly to mend;
their clothing, their hearts, the world.
we had tickets to see the odyssey.
this is a production presented
by the boxtale theatre company.
it may be an annual event as marilyn had
seen it once before and was enthralled.
she treated us to homer's epic.
breathtaking!

it was sign time on sunday morning.
we three turned into 5-year-oldes
designing, tracing and colouring
our unique and particular placards.

before we met the world,
we retreated to the vedanta temple
where we sat in stillness imagining
huge inescapable hugs!
the solitude opened our hearts.
we were able to cultivate courage,
tenderness
and
yes! indeedy..the good humour man!

marilyn had the perfect spot for us.
it was in/around a large shopping
area on state street.
we parked in a nearby garage..
the first 75 minutes free..
isn't that generous?
and walked with our signs
to the large open space in the mall.

we had made three free hug
signs and the fourth was a large arrow..
to point the way!
(thank marilyn for that direction!)
b. was a bit hug shy so she took the arrow.
it started off slow..
i heard someone say..
look! more free hugs!

wouldn't you know..
down where the mall meets the street
(where the river meets the sea)
there was jerry
with his rainbow free hugs sign..
jerrymatteo@cox.net
he posts himself on state street
most sundays..
this sunday he was being videoed
by students for a film project.
we joined jerry..
who was flabberghasted
(and delighted) at our presence.

there was the tall homeless man..
with startled eyes..
i engaged him with mine..questioning..
no, no..he couldn't cross over..
..for a hug..he walked away..
only to return slowly ..
watching intently with his hand to his head..
marilyn encouraged a hug for him;
no, no..not just yet..
he stood still.. witnessing..
the joy of huggers abounding..
marilyn faced him again gently;
no, no.. not yet..

all the while there is boisterous
laughter..many takers for hugs..
young children, teen-age girls,
handsome young men who were so eager
to step right up into any one's arms!
one last time marilyn urged the
the wondering wanderer..tenderly..
but no, no..not this time.
he walked on.
we held him in our heartminds
long after the signs were put away.

a nurse came up to me to harvest a hug.
she instructed me
on the rights and lefts
of arms and hands and hearts.
'no patting on the back,' she advised.
3..that's three..hugs a day
to lower blood pressure.
we went in for the count;
one..big squeeze!
two..bigger still..
three..the grande amour!

barbara is writing
a short story of the hugging day.
marilyn is hooked, lined and hugged.
we are planning our next adventure!

as we were leaving,
a man approached me.
he spoke with a german accent.
i saw on his jacket a lapel pin
with two flags crossed;
one, american..
the other german.

"what is hug?" he asked.
i gave him the biggest bear hug
i could conjure up..
'THIS - this is hug!'

i met one traveling

in the evening between sleep and waking
i met one traveling. he was the light of consciousness.
his body was soul, his pure wisdom apparent
in his beautiful face.

he praises me for awhile, then scolds.
you sit on the seven-sky throne, in prison.
the sign of gemini has set a table for you,
yet you stick your head down a drainhole again.

essence is not nourished with food and sleep.
do no one any harm in this timefield
of short crops where what you sow comes up very quickly.
you try to accomplish things, to win,
to reach goals. this is not the true situation.
put the whole world in ambition's stomach,
it will never be enough.

assume you get everything you want,
assume you have it now. what's the point?
the next moment you die.

friend, the youth you have lived is ending.
you sleep a drunken dreamless sleep
with no sense what morning you could wake inside.
-rumi

postmaster

i love to get lettres in the mail.

i also love to write cards and lettres;
the paper, pen, ink..the stamps.
lettre writing is the one thing
i miss the most out on the road.

mother teresa was a lettre writer.
she actually sat down daily to type out
thank you notes to everyone who sent
donations to her missionary of charities.
the first time i saw mother t.
she was tucked into her small office
tap, tap, tapping away
on the keys of her remington!

sudha and i had traveled to calcutta
to meet mother t...
possibly to volunteer
at the home of the dying
or the home for spastic children.

mother teresa was a small, sturdy oak tree.
her gnarled hands and feet were the
colour of baked tree bark.
her eyes were the brightest stars
one sees in broad daylight.

after we had met and she found out that
i was from the states, she asked me if
i would kindly take a lettre back..
to mail for her.
o my o
of course, i would be most happy to!

she took my face in her hands,
(i had bent down to receive the blessing)
she knocked noggins with me,
nuzzling my forehead to hers..
and with a great smile, thanked me.

after our days in calcutta were over,
we returned to the missionary
to collect the lettre.
mother teresa and the nuns
greeted us with a huge bag of mail,
filled to the very tip top
with small hand typed lettres
addressed to persons in the americas
thanking them for their kind donations.

of course, there were no stamps
on any of them..that was my job!

as i was handed the bulging bundle,
mother t. asked again
if i would deliver "a lettre" for her..
her star eyes twinkling
in question mark ???

i said..
indeed! under one condition...

now, one really doesn't
put conditions on mother teresa..
so the nuns that surrounded us
were a bit stunned..
mother t. narrowed her bright eyes,
looked sideways at me and waited...

venturing into unknown territory,
i requested..
will you please twiggle-twaggle my head again?
the nuns laughed in relief as
mother teresa took my head
in her oak branch fingers once more..
she knocked our third eyes together..
shaktipat!
i've never been the same!

traveling back home
with the carry-on
of mother teresa's mail
was a great gift to me
and the many students
that awaited my return.

the thank you lettres
were shared amongst
the yoginis and yogis..
(remembre?)
each taking a dozen or so..
to be stamped and sent off
to south american countries
and every state in the union!

today is my birthday!
feel free to drop me a line!

wesak moon..bleu moon

this is a bleu moon month.
wesak is an auspicious moon;
the veil betwixt worlds
is thin and much Work
is tended to by the
office of the buddha and the office of the christ.
it is a time when the blessings flow.
wesak is always the
full moon of may.

in the east it is said
that this moon celebrates:
the birth of buddha,
the awakening of buddha,
the death or parinirvana of buddha.

i was in retreat on the night
of wesak full moon, may 2nd..
at the vedanta retreat house
in olema.
i would be there for five days..
what a fine way to assimilate
the teachings just received
in s. f. with hhdl!

the grounds have quail by the dozen,
varieties of deer, rabbits, snakes,
mountain lions, ravens galore..
hawks of every flavor..
eucalyptus trees homeopath the breeze.
the rolling hills appear like
a close shave in golden-greens.

mangala was the caretaker
for the days i was there.
she is a spirited, light-hearted
woman open to the magical mystery!
we instantly became friends.

now, retreat is just that..
the backward step that leads one forward..
a time for solitude and inner reflection.

my new merrill boots were itching to be
tested and point reyes station was
three miles up hwy 1.
although it is looked down upon,
it is allowed to go to towne for
groceries, if need be..
i informed mangala that i was
walking in and she informed me
she would like to join me!

we sauntered slow and easy along
the shoulder..where we found
a beautiful fox.. no longer alive..
which we moved into the tall
grasses with prayers and blessings.
the red-wings were out in full throttle,
the buzzards were carousing the light wind.
the sun was brilliant.

the best bakery this side of that..
is the bovine bakery..
i treated mangala to a cheese doodle-le-do
and bought myself a bear claw..
to be eaten one toe at a time!

as we were walking to the chai wallah,
we passed the display window
of point reyes books
and were both drawn
to a title in the window..
the walk

we went in to ask about it
only to find that it was not
what we had in mind..
but dawn led us to another-
walk in a relaxed manner
a book about the camino campestelo.

mangala spilled the beans about my walk.
this led to a bit of interest
and dawn suggested
planetwalk
by the local author,
john francis.
he lives in point reyes
with his wife and two sons.

john has walked around the planet for 22 years
and 17 of those years were in silence!
he travels around the world speaking
on pilgrimage and change.
he is developing planetlines,
an environmental studies curriculum
based on the walking pilgrimage.

the book store called john
to see if we could meet.
mangala gifted me with the two books.
we hopped the bus back
to the retreat house as mangala
was needed to greet new retreatants.
much hustle and bustle for
our solitary refinement!
oops!

the next morning i was out on the hwy
heading toward point reyes.
john met me on the road
in his red prius..
just like sallie's!
we were able to talk for
some time about walking;
the inner and outer journey..
shoes, cars and fierce grace.

john echos the words of many ..
the most important thing is
...kindness ...

the second full moon of the month
is the bleu moon..coming on the 31st.
auspicious!

the pelicans are back

maybe they never left..
the silhouette of their jawbones
across the skyline is unmistakable.


"Oh, a wondrous bird is the pelican!
His bill holds more than his belican.
He can take in his beak
Enough food for a week.
But I'm darned if I know how the helican."
Dixon Lanier Merritt

i am sleeping in the upstairs room
at my friend's house.
there is a window at the head of the bed.
the bark of the harbour seals
can actually keep one awake at night;
the chime of church bells too.

when i awoke this morning
and had a penny peep out the window,
the fog-filled sky and the misty sea
were married, one to the other..
no beginning of salt water,
no end to great sky..
i thought i was seeing a large V
in the water..looking wider, longer, deeper
it was a fishing boat afloat in mid-aire!

my early stroll was blessed by a large V
in the morning sky..
a fishing boat of pelicans..
a dozen or more..
the big chins..the stall of the wing..
the uncomplicated ruckus they don't make..
they arrive at dawn, then sweep away at dusk.


look at the trees, look at the birds,
look at the clouds, look at the stars..
and if you have eyes you will be able
to see that the whole of existence is joyful.
everything is simply happy.
trees are happy for no reason,
they are not going to become
prime ministers or presidents;
they are not going to become rich,
they will never have any bank balance.
look at the birds..
it is simply unbelievable
how happy birds are!
osho

thank you note

the 4 immeasurables..
my nick name for the four
of us at the teachings...
each received a thank-you card
from the gyuto monks.
(www.gyutocenter.org)

mine said:
compassion
usually, our concept
of compassion or love
refers to the feeling
of closeness we have
with our friends and loved ones.
sometimes compassion also
carries a sense of pity.
this is wrong.
any love or compassion
which entails looking down
on the other
is not genuine compassion.
to be genuine,
compassion must be based
on respect for the other,
and on the realization
that others have the right
to be happy and overcome suffering,
just as much as you do.
on this basis,
since you can see
that others are suffering,
you develop a genuine
sense of concern for them.
HHDL

perfecto!

harmonic convergence

there were four of us that converged
at the marque du san fran
to be in the good graces
and grande company of HHDL
(his holiness, the 14th dalai lama)
and one another.

there was gail s.-
whose capacity for deep listening
is fathomless;
her story-telling beyond compare..
there was susan s.-
whose subtle tastes for food
kept us watering at the mouth;
guessing ingredients at every dish..
and nancy b.-
whose sharp wit and dry humour
made laughter our mantra
for the four+ days we spent together..

the weather was exceptionally
warm during the day;
the wind kicked us around at night.
the city was filled with the fragrance
of exotic flowers and homeless ones..
HHDL made mention in his public talk
that he would like to help feed them
at one of the nearby soup kitchens.
when asked of the number of homeless,
he was told nearly 5000-6000 of them.
we each surmised there were many more than that!

the teachings were from two texts:
the main text,
in praise of dependent origination
was spontaneously composed by je tsongkhapa
and is considered one of the most profound
in tibetan buddhism in that it addresses
the relationship between emptiness,
the ultimate nature of reality,
and dependent origination:
the realization that things do not exist
independently from other factors,
such as causes and conditions.

the supplemental text,
hymn to [the buddha] the world transendent
was compose by nagajuna.
our beloved teacher actually
spent the lion's share (roar)
on the supplemental!

we all came away with....
"no arising and no disintegration"

"an existent thing does not arise;
nor does a non-existent as well, nor does both;
neither from itself nor from another,
nor from both; how can there be arising?"

we ate well.
we did our karmic yoga..
distributing pamphlets
for the tibetan nuns project.
(tnpusa@igc.org)
we were all walkmongers..
past larkin and larkin
to mission and 21st
to bush and stockton
to the ferry building
and back..
we listened to poems
from the homeless,
offered spare change,
ate chocolate
and flirted with..
what was his name?

as quickly as we descended,
we all ascended..
each to their own
world transcendent..
reflecting..
"by what means can i enhance this teaching..?"

the more we care for the happiness of others,
the greater our own sense of well-being becomes.
cultivating a close, warm-hearted feeling
for others automatically puts the mind at ease.
it is the ultimate source of success of life.
-HHDL

asanga and the dog

"hope you can forgive yourself for your reaction to the man on the bus. You aren't permanently stained or anything. (Was that foam he rubbed on the pole?) Maybe he was really a dog? You are still shining brightly." jw

"Isn’t it wonderful to have all these holy beings guiding us each day! I know that homeless person in Bandon was truly an emanation of a Buddha testing the deepest part of your heart." ml

receiving these two e-mails
from precious friends
this morning..
i recall -
asanga and maitreya..

asanga began by meditating
very diligently on maitreya.
he practiced for three years and did not seem
to be getting any results.
he became very depressed
because he had not accomplished
anything in his meditation.
he then left his retreat.
he saw a pigeon leaving
its nest in a rock face.
he noticed how the entrance hole had been worn smooth
by the feathers of generations of pigeons.
seeing this example of continued application
he was inspired to diligence
and returned to his retreat.

after a further three years
without result he again became depressed.
asanga left his retreat hermitage.
this time he encountered a man
who was removing dirt
from the top of a high hill.
asanga discovered that the man was removing
the dirt because the hill was blocking the sun,
which he hoped would shine on his house.
asanga was so impressed by this man’s perseverance
that he decided to enter retreat once more.

depressed after another three years without result,
asanga again left his retreat.
this time he met a man
rubbing an iron bar with a cloth.
intrigued by this, asanga asked what he was doing.
he was told he was making a sewing needle.
inspired by such diligence
and forbearance for such a small return,
asanga returned to his retreat.

having meditated for twelve years
he still did not feel he was getting
anywhere with his meditation.
deeply depressed, he left his retreat
and on the way he saw a dog
that was very sick and thin.
the dog was angry; ready to bite.

suddenly, asanga felt strong compassion
for the dog because he noticed
that the dog had worms in its wounds.
he wanted to remove the worms to help the dog,
but realized that if he pulled off the worms,
he would kill them.
it was a choice between killing the worms
or leaving the worms on the dog
which would eventually cause the dog to die.

asanga, overwhelmed by strong compassion for both,
felt that he must find a way to get
the worms out of the dog’s wounds.
he thought, “if i take the worms off with my tongue,
then the worms will not be hurt; the dog will get better.”
he leaned down and stuck out his tongue.
instead of touching the dog, asanga touched the ground.

maitreya appeared before him.
seeing maitreya he exclaimed,
“how is this possible?
i have been practicing this meditation
for twelve years and haven’t been able to meet you.
you haven't much compassion for me.”
maitreya said, “it wasn’t my lack of compassion.
i was there the whole time
but you couldn't see;
you had too many obscurations.
after twelve years of practice,
your obscurations had become so slight
that when you saw the dog
your compassion enabled you to see me.”

to prove the point, maitreya suggested that asanga
go into the nearby village with maitreya on his shoulder
and ask people what they could see.
most of the villagers saw nothing.
they thought him crazy
except for one old lady who asked
why he was carrying a wounded dog on his shoulder.

"i like a bit of a mongrel myself,
whether it is a man or a dog;
they're the best for everyday!"
george bernard shaw

inventory

in my osprey back pack,
i have 2 pairs of underwear.
there is a space blanket,
an extra pair of tennis shoes,
2 pairs of smart wool sox,
2 camisoles; 1 wool, 1 silk.
i have gortex rain pants,
1 smart wool long sleeve t-shirt,
a hoody, a light rain jacket
and a wool knit cap.
there is a bag of tricks..
tooth brush and paste, a comb,
face creme, floss and bandaids.
1 small book, a pen
and a red blinking light.
a bag of sage, a flashlight
and a small mirror..
talismans offered by friends
along the way..

when i met up with companions
in san francisco for the teachings
with the dalai lama,
susan s. brought me a duffel
full of clothes for the city..
now i had an abundance
of socks, pants, shoes
and prayer shawls.

..an abundance of choices..
too many laundry opportunities!

simplicity, simplicity, simplicity!
i say, let your affairs be as
two or three,
and not a hundred or a thousand;
instead of a million
count half a dozen,
and keep your accounts
on your thumb nail.
henry david thoreau

tidbits

the most popular rear view mirror
dangler is the dream catcher;
followed by the hawaiian lei.

there are large quantities
of whipping creme cans along the highways.

contrary to popular belief,
there are still plenty of bees around.

most men in big trucks wiggle
their fingers when they wave.

libraries are a national treasure.

string cheese isn't really stringy.

the endless road
is the only one
worth traveling.

the best way to spread the message
of peace and love
is to live a happy, peaceful life.

the great divine

equanimity!
how that shows up for each of us
in the bardo of daily lives..
to see others as ourselves..
it is the golden rule, yes?
seeing the similarities
rather than the differences..

there but for fortune
go you or i

it is interesting to me..
that the great fall that splatted
me ground ward was the homeless
gent on the bus at bandon..
my failure to see the divine
in everyone...

i remembre mother teresa
telling of the actual moment
when she bent down to pick up
her first dying man
on the streets of calcutta..
she said she walked down the stairs,
to the streets many times ..
before she scooped up the fragile
bag of bones and carried him
to the home of the dying..
her work had begun..
she never looked back!
o my o

it seems to me..
that since i met the bag of bones
on the bus... the homeless man..
that is where i might
take the walk..back to the bus..
to face the self..
my desire to walk across the u. s. of a.
started on the greyhound
some 40 years ago..
awe-inspiring to think
that the walk will lead me
back to the bus..
where i feel my peace work
will have deep roots!

we go where it is the darkest
in our very selves and bring
great brilliance to the shade,
the shadow..
seeing the thing
for what it is..
embracing with grace
the black dragon..

feels like peace to me!
the great divine..

the homeless man on the bandon bus
is with me every day..
i am breathing him in..
it is my wish that he remembres me in his prayers!
he is in mine..

the fork

"when you come to the fork in the road, take it."
yogi berra

'tis over two months..
(is that all?)
since i walked out of my home towne
with bright intent and a brisk gait.
what a brilliant scene with the many
who joined in!

since then, the adventures of
walking for peace, being peace..
being non-peace, being non-being,
have earned me the certificate
of 'only this'.

i have met myself on the road.
(kill her!)
stood on the threshold
of the abyss..
opened the gate..
thrown in the ring.
(it is still on my bloody finger!)

the practice walk has
grifted me much:
the simple and honest truth
that my 'want to'
isn't big enough to get me across
the u. s. of a.
..at this time..

ah! so.. amigas and amigos!
i admit to great disappointment.
it feels a bit like i have
walked halfway up the mountain;
a feat j. krishnamurti would call mediocre!
eeeckkk!

and yet..it is downright silly for me
not to
listen to my heart..
that is the essence of peace,
eh?
it was a test, the practice walk..
to see what i was made of..
i admit to flimsy..
it has earned me some proud flesh,
however.

and so..
i am still on the road..
all who wander are not lost
on the peace trail..
awaiting instructions..


see how the flesh grows back across a wound,
with a great vehemence,
more strong than the simple, untested surface before.
there's a name for it on horses,
when it comes back darker and raised:
proud flesh...
a single fabric
that nothing can tear...

the journey itself
was not so difficult..
it simply came down to..
spending
that much time,
that much energy
on the shoulders
of the roads
that are very narrow
(we like broad shoulders!)
full of exhaust
(it is exhausting)
with large cars, fast drivers
and things that go bump in the light!

not for this puppy..

as yogi says:
"it ain't over 'til it's over."

this is the lesson...

...in following the way -

remember it.

how do you follow the way?

go where you are sent.
wait until you are shown what to do.
do it with your whole self.
remain until you have done what you are sent to do.
walk away with empty hands.

how much will it cost?

the cost is everything,
for all you are and all you have
will be asked of you
before the journey runs its course.

how will you know your fellow travelers?

their faces will be marked by scars of love.
no one will ever tell you that the way is easy;
only that it is possible.
no one can tell you if the journey is worthwhile,
for your wages are concealed.
they will be shown you only on the last day of eternity.

but whoever chooses to follow the way
will have company as fellow travelers
and a resting place at journey's end
in the Mecca of the heart.

unknown age

for all the features it hoards and displays
age seems to be without substance at any time

whether morning or evening it is a moment of air
held between the hands like a stunned bird

while i stand remembering light in the trees
of another century on a continent long submerged

with no way of telling whether the leaves at that time
felt memory as they were touching the day

and no knowledge of what happened to the reflections
on the pond's surface that were never seen again

the bird lies still while the light goes on flying

- w.s. merwin


what is it that keeps us wanting what we had before?
or for that matter - what we have never held?
settling into the presence of breath, light..
the full belly..the empty fist..
the days float by like honey pie
we are sticky with the sweetness of life
the unknown step, step
that walks us further into now


'solvitur ambulando'
it is solved by walking

the power of peace

it is my wish that the spiritual power of peace
will touch the mind of every person on this earth;
radiating out from deep peace within our own minds,
across political and religious barriers,
across the barriers of ego and conceptual righteousness.
our first work as peacemakers is to clear our minds
of mental conflicts caused by ignorance, anger,
grasping, jealousy and pride. spiritual teachers
can guide us in the purification of these poisons
and through this purification of our own minds,
we can learn the very essence of peacemaking.

the inner peace we seek should be so absolutely pure,
so stable, that it cannot be moved to anger by those
who live and profit by war or to self-grasping and fear
by confrontation with contempt, hatred and death.
incredible patience is necessary to accomplish any aspect
of world peace. the source of such patience is the space
of inner peace from which you recognize with great clarity
that war and suffering are the outer reflections
of the minds' inner poisons.

if you truly understand that the essential difference
in peace-makers and war-makers is that peace-makers
have a discipline and control over egotistical anger,
grasping, jealousy and pride while the war-makers,
in their ignorance, manifest the results of these poisons
in the world - if you truly understand this,
you will never allow yourself to be defeated from within or without.

tibetan buddhists use the peacock as the symbol of the bodhisattva,
the awakened peacemaker who works for the enlightenment
of all sentient beings. the peacock is said
to eat poisonous plants and to transmute them into
the gorgeous colours of its feathers.
it does not poison itself, just as we who wish for peace
must not poison ourselves.

as you meet the powerful, worldly men who sit at the top
of the war machines, regard them with strict equanimity.
convince them as effectively as you know how, but be
constantly aware of your own state of mind.
if you begin to experience anger, retreat.
if you can go on without anger, perhaps you will
penetrate the terrible delusion that causes war
and all its hellish sufferings.

from the clear space of your own inner peace,
your compassion must expand to include all those
who are involved in war - the soldiers caught
in the cruel karma of killing and who sacrifice
their precious human rebirth; the generals and politicians
who intend to benefit but cause disruption and death instead;
the civilians who are killed, wounded and turned into refugees.
true compassion is utterly neutral and is moved by
suffering of every sort, not tied to right or wrong,
attachment or aversion.

the work of peace is a spiritual path in itself,
a means to develop perfect qualities of mind
and to test these qualities against urgent necessity,
extreme suffering and death.
do not be afraid to give your time, energy and wealth.

chagdud tulku
the path of compassion

in praise of dependent origination

the practice walk south
has landed me in san francisco..
the bill graham civic auditorium
with the 14th dalai lama..
two days of teachings on
interdependency.
there will be thousands
of others, traveling their
practice walk, to be in the
presence of tenzin gyatso.

on the way,
my dear project manager..
sir duck and his lovely wife..
took me to the "on the way"
rei store..
after much wading through
merrills, keens and vasques,
duck sighed and said:
"o...i had forgotten..
these are women..sigh...
women.. shopping for shoes...sigh"
he wandered to the book section
and buried himself in:
deep survival by lawrence gonzales

merrill boots made for walking
are now embracing toes,
worn down blisters, and callouses..
instructed to wear them slowly..
inside for hours before finding
the road ways..on the way..

to dependent arising..

"the great way has no gate.
clear water has no taste.
the tongue has no bone.
in complete stillness,
a stone girl is dancing."

zen master seung sahn

sea

the harbour seals are giving birth
daily to wee silkies..
the sandy beach is covered with
great mamas full to the brim
with their babes..
the seagulls hover to be the first
to claim the afterbirth..
the newbornes follow their ma's
instruction of chest tapping..
"come here, come here..
get your nourishment!"
every morning there are more babies
fluffing up the satin robes
they were borne in.

to be so close to the wild ones
gives clarity to the human ones..


"in the beginning was the tao.
all things issue from it;
all things return to it.

to find the origin,
trace back the manifestations.
when you recognize the children
and find the mother,
you will be free of sorrow.

if you close your mind in judgements
and traffic with desires,
your heart will be troubled.
if you keep your mind from judging
and aren't led by the senses,
your heart will find peace.

seeing into darkness is clarity.
knowing how to yield is strength.
use your own light
and return to the source of light.
this is called practicing eternity."

tao de ching

earth

"i stand by the river and i know
that it has been here yesterday
and will be here tomorrow
and that therefore,
since i am part of its pattern today,
i also belong to all its yesterdays
and will be a part of all its tomorrows.
this is a kind of earthly immortality,
a kinship with rivers and hills and rocks,
with all things and all creatures
that have ever lived
or ever will live
or have their being on the earth."
v.s. eifert

the living waters of monterey bay,
the beach just below..
the gray and mottled rocks have camouflaged
the mama seals and their baby ones..
looking intensely, the seeing eyes
slowly find the breath inside the breath
that transform rock into the great yet tender mammal..
we are of the same mammal-ness, yes?

remembre the book..?
kinship with all life -
a trippy tale of communion
with many a creature..
ants included!

singing my 'o trees' walking song
as i venture out for the days' wander..

"greatness is not where we stand,
but in what direction we are moving.
we must sail sometimes with the wind
and sometimes against it-
but sail we must,
and not drift, nor lie in anchor."
oliver wendall holmes

honoring the earth
under these blistered feet;
honoring the feet..

meals on wheels

the house on 2nd street
has seen alot of me..
i have been in and out
of this abode since my
eighteenth year..sharing
the grow up stuff with
my o so dear friend, 'b'
(barbara rose)
and her family..
loel has been mama # 2,
mark, a gemini brother..
dave, the duck..
(b's husband)
an endearing, enduring
friend of a lifetime..

o how many "merrwigdes"
have they wondered and witnessed?
o how many christmas stockings
i have rummaged through?
o how many cats and dogs
and precious friends
have sifted through
the cells of me..?
we've all been in theatre;
we know the scenes
of each others lives.

duck is my project manager.
he has traveled to bhutan,
nepal, the himalayas..
distant, exotic places
of high adventure and intrigue..
just ask for d-tales!

indeed he is the proper tool
for the proper job.

mark and i arrived "home"
late at night..
dave and loel were waiting up..
relieved to be among the tribe,
we spoke of weather..
blisters, news..

dave (et al) insists on new boots..
i have been walking with two
pair of high quality tennis shoes..
it seems odd to me that
after 4+ weeks of walking,
blisters arrive
making a mighty nuisance
on the sole plate..
karma!

food is a challenge on the open road.
there are plenty of sweets and string cheese,
plenty of burgers and sodas..
these are not the highest and best
for the likes of me..
so i have been eating oodles of bananas!
sandwiches, oranges..
nuts and berries
when i can find them..
foraging, foraging, foraging!

the warmth of a hot meal
with buddha and halima..
(they offered a small, copper angel
from mexico for the 2nd street house!)
toast and honey for brekkie..
a sit down dinner with dave
to discuss boots, routes..
obstacles..possibilities..

"there is no path.
paths are made by walking."
machado

sallie wisdom

speaking with my mama over the phone
is not an easy task...
as she is very hard of hearing.
on the oregon coast,
i would have to get
down on the sand
and the dunes to get a signal..
in order for her to hear me,
i would have to holler
mighty to communicate
with her..
hence, the entire beach
was privy to our conversation..
not copacetic..by any means
for the other beach combers!

i would write her cards and lettres
rather than invite others to
our boisterously loud communes..

when i arrived in pacific grove,
thanks to a ride from the
woodland cougar, mark..
(..i have missed
the avenue of the giants..
the coastal redwoods..)
i thought i would attempt
a phone call to ms. sallie.

after much talk about fruitcake
and poundcake with pecans..
i shared my doubts about
the walk..

o mama..can this really be the end?....

she quietly asked..
are you thinking of not continuing?
i expressed my fears
with a grandiose dose of self-pity..
she said..
"sweetheart, you have had
too much leisure time..
too much thought...
(all those dry-out bus rides!)
you know what happens to you.."

eeeek! i do! i do!

we spoke about giving up..
how that might well break my spirit..

..if i do decide to shift,
change, drop..
to honor that with grace..

"wait..see..
what the dalai lama
will say to you.."

!!!!!!!!!!!
rest in retreat
remembre the original intention..
!!!!!!!!!!!

somehow we were able to
speak easily without
breaking the sound barrier
on my part.
somehow she had my number;
she tore it up..
scattering the scraps
to the damp winds..

the one you feed,
my dear..
the one you feed!

feed the demons..feed the wolves

one evening an olde cherokee told
his grandson about a battle
that goes on inside people.
he said, "my son, the battle
is between two 'wolves'
inside us all.

one is evil.
it is anger, envy, jealousy,
sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance,
self-pity, guilt, resentment,
inferiority, lies, false pride,
superiority and ego.

the other is good.
it is joy, peace, love,
hope, serenity, humility, kindness,
benevolence, empathy, generosity,
truth, compassion and faith."

the grandson thought about it for a minute
and then asked his grandfather,
"which wolf wins?"

the olde cherokee simply replied,
"the one you feed."

love is the lord of all.....

"i did my best;
it wasn't much.
i couldn't feel,
so i learned to touch.
i've told the truth,
i didn't come to fool you.
and even though
it all went wrong,
i'll stand before
the lord of song
with nothing on my lips
but
hallelujah!"

leonard cohen

2 dollar bill

buddha hands me a lucky 2-dollar bill..
my 2nd one for the journey!

the deuce will see me through..
i am heading south for retreat
before the teachings..
dependent origination at its best!
i will dialogue with dave, the duck..
my project manager..
discussing the route..
i will rest my blustery, blistery heels..
i will crack open my heart of opportunity..

i will save my 2 dollar bill...
for a rainy, rainy day!

good morning viet nam!

precipitation!
babar is covered with a plastic bag
as i hobble to the bus stop..
i know i am looking like the homeless one ..
damp and dewy..
no laundry for days..
there is a fragrance i can't seem to shake..

with wings on my fingers
and tarps on my toes....
i meet gerry j.
who keeps me company all
the way to santa rosa..

i get to rendezvous
with will and joann
as the sun comes out..

we have known one another for 30 years.
we met in tahiti at a yoga class!
i was married to my first husband
in their living room!
will, who we call buddha is a 'zennie'.
joann halima is a sufi.

we slip into our comfortable friendship
as i slip into halima's bathrobe!
every single everything in my pack
must be washed..
(including babar; who
we tie up in a pillow case
in case his innards fall outward!)

we break bread together,
discoursing the well..
deep subjects..
love and faith,
giving and receiving,
fear and courage..
we investigate the el camino pilgrimage in spain..
as i question my capacity
for walking across the u.s. of a.
as they question my safety
on the highways and biways.

perhaps i require more practice
on trails and footpaths that are
mapped out for just that..
rather than the fast and vast
roadways of america..

the river of doubt is flooding,
the cup of faith is leaking,
the ribbon of highway is crumpling..

upside down,
i place my heart where my head is..
saturating the central channel
with csf..the rain nectar..
refresh! refresh!

fiddle dee faddle far foodle

limping, bottom feeding..
(where does the mind feed?)
wandering about brookings..
i locate the library..
have i mentioned how fantibuloscious
libraries are for the road weary?
shelly sits me down to
blog..she's given me an extra hour..

"someone fills the cup in front of us."
rumi

after which, she sends me off
to lunch at susie q's..
molly, the daughter of the owners,
has a rare disease..
there are ties hanging
around the circumference
of the restaurant
that one can buy ..
the money goes to defray
the cost of her treatments..

ah! an excellent way to purify;
to practice generosity..
to clean a slate..
i add a tie to my lunch..
with gratitude for the opportunity
to step up somewhere..

"meekness in itself is nothing
else than a true knowing and feeling
of one's self as one is.
any one who truly sees
and feels oneself as one is,
must surely be meek indeed."
..from the cloud of unknowing

i return to the library to
pick up my pack..
richard, an elderly library gent
offers me a ride to the state line..
as my blister is pouting,
i gladly accept!
he tells me i am much too
intelligent to be walking about like this..
i tell him i am none too clever
to be sitting about!
he takes me to the lucky 0 casino
into california..
onto a new map!

as i walk to smith river,
as i wave to the cars and trucks..
i say;
riding the breath:
salaam aleikum!
imagine that!
handing out the arabic
salute of peace..
let us open our hearts to islam!

remembre forrest gump's description
of the rains in viet nam...?
there was stinging rain,
fat rain,
rain that ran sideways,
rain that seemed to come sraight up from the ground..

that is the rain..
all the rain that
rained down upon me..

i caught the last bus
to crescent city..

"every light between here
and far foodle is out."
dr. seuss

sadly i missed the call from kevin and donna
where i might have had a homespun bed..
i had just chequed into a motel..
far fiddly foodle dee dee!

road grist

"perhaps everything terrible
is in its deepest being,
something that needs our love."
rilke

odd, though i do not read
the news of things,
the energetics seem to find
their way into the heart/mind stream.

how does one take it in..?
transform and transcend
the violence into
the one taste?
is it the fertilizer
that seeps deep into
the lily of the field
that will burst it
into the brilliance of blossom?

i have no answer..
only my own question..
my own broken and fearful heart ..

early morning in bandon..
the walkabout to the estuary
puts me eye to eye with
a harbour seal..
those eyes of the silky
penetrating the depths
of unknown..fathoms down
inquiry into the core of things..

my right foot needs some rest.
the heel has full blown itself
into a callous blister
of circustent size..
full of the rain
i have been walking through..
full of the wet of willfulness.

i find a coast bus that will
transport me and my blister
to the end of the line..
that's brookings.
it leaves early in the am..
as i hobble to the stop,
the sky is awake..
bleu and rosey..
my heart/mind reflecting
bleu and rosey..

i climb on the bus
to a noisy, vexing voice.
the voice of a homeless
gent who is spouting
the 2nd and 3rd phase of doom.
he shouts that the dark one
is tempting us all away
from the light side..
that we must know how to
step aside from the clutches
of beelzebub!!!!!

as we drive off,
the bus driver
demands that the loud one
settle down and be still..
praises!
he was quite animated as he
blew his nose in his hands,
wiped them on the seat..the pole..
coughing, growling, snorting..

just like me?
i don't think so..
'tis!
'tis, indeed!

as we step down,
the homeless "shatan" shouter..
was in need of some help..
he had a wheel chair in the back,
a pile of soiled pillows and blankets..
a very, big stick!

now hear this!
my own fear..
my sense of "i"
would not let me
in any way, shape or form
put out a hand to serve
this homeless bro..

i had forsaken peace..

cho seung-hui,
the loner,
the killer..
no hand went out to him..

his own hand reached
into the hell of things
covered with our blood...

drink it up..drink it up..
offer it back as the nectar
of lovingkindness...

ED. NOTE:
see march 22 post
confess all your hidden faults!

dune buggy

many miles beyond the caves,
my right heel started chanting a mantra
that was unfamiliar and off key.
my thumb found a ride with randy,
a sax player from st.louis..
he told me of the oldest place to stay
in florence..dropped me at ragan's..
now the lighthouse..

florence and the next few beach townes
are the play ground for many a buggy,
jet ski and recreation vehicular!

osprey delight in the blue upward,
crows with large sticks and strands
of string won't budge if your watching;
their nest will wait!
kingfishers diving..
ducks, loons and geese!
..a mecca for the feathered ones.

the olde cement bridge across the siuslaw
has walk ways on either side..
the brilliance of the sun herself
offers a good day for walking..
except...this morning..
somehow, i cannot seem to muster up
my ear to ear grin..
it is not radiating
from my heart chakra...
must be plugged up!

down the road, i take a ride with kevin.
junior, the pit bull keeps us company!
his car had been stolen,
which accounts for the fact
that it is barely wired together..
kevin is 25,
has had 13 jobs since he was thirteen..
is a 4 time felon with a plea bargain
awaiting a court date that will set him free.
he shows me two newspaper articles
about 18 people busted for drugs..
about 8 more people busted for drugs..
pure speculation on my part ..
i wonder if these had something to do
with his bargain..???

he drops me on this side of north bend
(i give him a hug; encouraging him to stay clean)
and start walking all the way to/through coos bay!
lots of over sized tires on over sized trucks
with young drivers and rowdy pipes..

one more ride gets me to bandon;
this time with tim
who loves to hunt and fish..
and chew tobacco.
elk?
i leave him with a charm
that will
detour his arrow
and hook!

enough buggy for now!

kate perpetua

the rain is sleeping in,
the morning i leave yachats..
bleeding hearts, lupin..
rhodies in expansive bloom..
surprise! surprise!
lilacs are uncurling the scent
that i remembre in may!
the locals say it is not early
so i surmise that i must be heading south!

the road is ever upward..
the height of the cliffs
make my knees weebly.
cape perpetua..neptune's picnic,
devil's churn, cook's chasm;
mighty dramatic sights!

enlivened by the landscape,
dodging recreation vehicles
and cars that pass in a bleep..
i am in the zone..when..
a small motor home draws to a stop
on the other side of the road;
a woman get outs and shouts..
dunja!

holy moly! who is that?
kate and john m. (from anacortes)
have spotted me..
i am invited in for a cuppa!
o my o

we are both equally dazzled
at the likelihood of the happening..
pleased as punch..to be exact!

we speak of travel, mothers and children,
art and the longevity of marriages..
i figure this is as good an opportunity as any
to offer up the precious yet weighty
homemade mustard..
(i was invited into their home, yes?)
for something lighter!
kate came through with a hand-painted card
from john's aunt? sister?
who is a nun in the holy redeemer convent
near portland!

there is a tunnel up ahead
so they drive me through;
over a bridge that needs patching..
we say our good-byes at a turn-around..
they heading north..
i, south for the sea lion caves!

uphill

"does the road wind uphill all the way?
yes, to the very end.
will the day's journey take the whole long day?
from morn to night, my friend.

but is there for the night a resting place?
a roof for when the slow, dark hours begin.
may not the darkness hide it from my face?
you cannot miss that inn.

shall i meet other wayfarers at night?
those who have gone before.
then must i knock, or call when just in sight?
they will not keep you waiting at that door.

shall i find comfort, travel-sore and weak?
of labor you shall find the sum.
will there be beds for me and all who seek?
yes, beds for all who come.

christina rosetti

coasting the coast

think of any word for wet..for rain..
for stormy moist..for misty wet
the watery coast line..
frothy graybeards!
stunning waves of grace..
silvery canopy skyward,
soggy splash landing..
lagoons of puddle..
drippy, foglets..

i was more than ecstatic
to meet linda and ride south
to lincoln city!
we did stop in tillamook
for the newspaper interview..
i am way out of my zone;
blathering blonde-like
about peace, simplicity and equality!

"...asking to be changed in
ways you cannot imagine.."

we handpicked some daffodils for
lori, the mayor of lincoln..
she's green!
a masseuse in her real life,
she is married to a chiropractor..
has 3 grown children, 3 cats..
she is younger than i am and busy!

we had a delicious dinner..
i got to make the salad..
her husband, rob gave me an adjustment..
that wobbly SI joint..
along with some homeopathic trauma juice..

still raining in the early morning,
i was driven to newport by doug,
a lawyer who shared the beauties
of the coastline with me..
near the devil's punchbowl..
a savory brunch in hand from lori,
i head south.

pedestrians allowed across
the newport bridge!!
user friendly..
a striking span across the yaquina river.

i hop the community bus to yachats..
chatting with the driver..
inconceivable..
she has lived in anacortes!
moved here a few years ago..
a once upon a time neighbor
of ms. julie g!
the dear friend who is handling
the mail..
denise says she'll put the sticker on her bus..

i am resting for a night
in an elegant beach house..
joa's in-laws..
jane and paul..
have entrusted me with their
home away from home..

the sun is shining..
the blog is logged..
wending my way..
striding for the peace of it!

dandelion cottage

behold! the pacific ocean..
it is such a dramatic change
from the sound..
we are talking waves!
the weather has been wild..
hailstones, rainbows..sleet..
rain and more rain..wind..
comfy to be in a house for a few..
cooking my own meals..imagine that!
a fire in the hearth, tulips on the table..
a valued interlude
before the shoes find shoulder!

right smack dab on the beach..
i walked the sand to the library.
moe had called me as she left towne..
"there is a library for your blog!"
she is on to everything!

the librarian, linda w. drove up
in the original flower powered
peace mobile!
covered with peace signs and posies,
the auto is a cosmic grace to the roadways!

linda jumped right in to locate a spot for me..
she found a bed in lincoln city at the mayors!
she lined up an interview with the tillamook news..
she offered me a ride down the coast to lincoln city..
she introduced me to cathey and charles busch,
who founded peace village..
she stands alone on the corner in tillamook..
'another grandmother for peace"
she started the art literacy program
which i had the good fortune to assist with..
labeling and matting children's art for the next show..

there was a serendipity to our meeting..
i was down the road into the unknown..
letting go into the mystery..
when the mystery unveiled herself..
as linda!

i gave her the love bead that jorja offered;
the mayor received the dream catcher!
lori h., the mayor,
in turn..gave me a jar of homemade mustard..
which will find a home soon!

linda also told me
of a dandy little cafe in garibaldi
where i stopped after the morning walk..
penni c. and i immediately had
much to say to one another..
i waited out the opening of the library
with lunch and tea..
penni kindly fed me that day..
curried cream cheese and cranberry sandwich!
her concoction!

the peace clings are finding
their way along the coastline!

...and einstein!

einstein's 3 rules of work

out of clutter, find simplicity.
from discord, find harmony.
in the middle of difficulty lies opportunity!

expectancy

one of my least favorite angel cards..
as a matter of fact,
i took it out of the pack,
along with responsibility..
and others..
much to my sister's chagrin!

which brings me to the subject..
of expectations..
as i walk..
i wonder if i am fulfilling
every ones idea of what they
think should be happening
on this walk for peace!
i wonder if i am fulfilling
my own expectations..?

i wonder if i really have any
that are not in direct relation
to everyone else?
i wonder..
does anyone really have any of me?

when i am referred to as
the peace pilgrim, i wince!
for i inquire daily
into my own motive for walking..
is it merely a holiday?
shirking responsibility?
(that other angel card)
walking for peace, really?

still..
everyday,
every single day,
there is a golden
needle that threads a bead
of peace on the rosary
i am walking..

whether it is a trucker who tells me:
be careful, dearie!
or a driver who pulls over to ask:
where are you going, mam?
(what is a mam? am i one?)
or those who thank me for doing
what i am doing!
what am i doing?

simply walking..
sometimes riding..
always waving
for the peace
that begins with me..

there is no time for inner demons
to raise their many heads..
only for..
a place to stay..out of the rain..
a snack for the
low,
lower,
lowest
blood sugar vein..
water to drink,
a place to pee..
is this the walk for peace
we all had in mind?

i'd have to say..
yes!
yes, it is..
the walk i have in mind daily..
the simple presence
of the present moment
on the roadside of now.

wow!
look ma!
no expectations!

Elijah’s Raven

Behold, my little-wings,
He sees as we do,
Shares our secrets
In the dancing dark-bright fire of his eyes.

Look where he stares, beyond where stars are born,
Beyond the waves of deeps and vasts,
Into formless Night.

And, still he holds his gaze
Waiting, waiting
For rippling wings of light:
Creation’s promise of return.

These tall flyless ones tarry not in the desert
But they die.

We clean their bones.
We clean their bones.

But this one nests here
Thriving in our craggy vision-worlds.

Hear how his cracked voice parts the air!
Water flows from Cherith rocks.

All is changed.

Fly, my children, my brave ones!
We must feed our kin.


b. r. norman
in answer to w.s. merwin's
"Noah's Raven"

the layers

i have walked through many lives,
some of them my own,
and i am not who i was,
though, some principle of being
abides, from which i struggle
not to stray.
when i look behind,
as i am compelled to look
before i can gather strength
to proceed on my journey,
i see the milestones dwindling
toward the horizon
and the slow fires trailing
from the abandoned camp-sites,
over which scavenger angels
wheel on heavy wings.
oh, i have made myself a tribe
out of my true affections,
and my tribe is scattered!
how shall the heart be reconciled
to its feast of losses?
in a rising wind
the manic dust of my friends,
those who fell along the way,
bitterly stings my face.
yet i turn, i turn,
exulting somewhat,
with my will intact to go
wherever i need to go,
and every stone on the road
precious to me.
in my darkest night,
when the moon is covered
and i roamed through the wreckage,
a nimbus-clouded voice
directed me:
"live in the layers,
not on the litter."
though i lack the art
to decipher it,
no doubt the next chapter
in my book of transformations
is already written.
i am not done with my changes.

stanley kunitz

noah's raven

raven overhead..
circling..
i continue the walk
though i have called jorja..
i am so ready to drop..
ready for the ride..
the foaming dog took
whatever i had left
and fed it to the crows!

joe and jorja live in a home
that they have built themselves.
passive solar..olde doors..
colourful tiles, beadwork lampshades!
good friday, indeed!

in a big book on the table i open to:
noah's raven

why should i have returned?
my knowledge would not fit into theirs.

i found untouched the desert of the unknown,
big enough for my feet.
it is my home.

it is always beyond them.
the future splits the present
with the echo of my voice.

hoarse with fulfillment,
i never made promises.

w.s. merwin

we share the evening
with food that "spoils us"
(says joe)
poetry and roses..

in the morning, jorja and i speak
of the miracle of the living waters..
she feeds me breakfast..
offers granola for the road..

moe arrives to drive me across
the astoria bridge..
no pedestrians!
she has shopping..
perfect timing...
rain, wet..
then she drives me across
the warrenton bridge..
no pedestrians!

as the raven flies..
moe lands me at the beach house
of kathy s. in twin rocks!
i am in oregon..
the day before easter sunday..
praises!

no bad dogs

oooo!
the law of attraction...
hummm!

there is a park way up the road at bruceport..
the gate is open though it says closed.
i wander in to have a rest and seek the view.
ah! great trees line the path..
i see a trailer..a truck.
i am almost to what i think is the view
when this dog of unusual size is bounding
straight for me..
there is much barking, growling..
the earth is moving..
this is a very, very big dog.
this very big dog is foaming at the mouth..
i start by chanting janet m.'s blessing:
no bad dogs!
did i mention foaming?
breathing, chanting, turning right around..
i walk slowly to erase any fear from my skin..
no bad dogs..
he bumps me, he nudges me..
o my the foam...
good dog..you are such a very good dog..
only good dogs!
he turns away..
i am a rag, a lump..a whither..
only good dogs!

ode for moe

moe and family live in a big blue house!
the kitchen drain had been clogged for a few days
so the landlord is putting in a new dishwasher;
as well as fixing the sink!

it is john's day off..
he gets to shampoo the carpet..
moe gives me the tour and i meet:
jeremiah (5) who is the entertainer.
micah (sam)(7) who is the poultry aficionado
and artist.
hannah (9) who is known for her artistic moves.
she loves to read.
josiah (12) has deep dimples
and is the basketball wiz.
remembre alex?(14)
who WILL be the governor of washington.
alex was recently a page in olympia!

the children have all been home schooled
from the get go; though now
they are attending public school.
they are all in the 4-h club!

i am then introduced to:
2 ducks: prince and miss duck.
2 turkeys: tucker and miss me.
3 cats: jet, oliver and justice.
plus the porch cat..
sunamee..an amazon bird
sayla..a gray timna
tobie: the jack russel
and 100 other birds.
banties, egg and meatbirds!
there is another bird up
in alex and hannah's room..

a house full..
and room for me!

since moe is the assistant director
for the raymond players..
we are off to the dress rehearsal
of deep sleepers.
2 run-throughs..
a two-act that does not put you to sleep!

when we get home, we all jump in
to clean up the kitchen..
from dishes to sweeping to mopping!
with 14 plus hands.. pretty quick work!
banana cake in the oven for breakfast!

alex and moe pick out 3 wise men
essential oil for the next house
down the road..jorja..a friend of moe's!

i am rewarded with a reflexology treatment
and soon find slumber on a very cozy couch.
mosaicbymoe@yahoo.com

in the am..
alex and i head toward south bend
walking for peace and waving.
there we find jorja in her bead shoppe..
i will continue on toward bay center
where jorja and joe live.
we pick out a gift for the next host;
a dream catcher and a love bead necklace.
is this the 60's or what?

alex and jorja and i decide
that it is "fair" for me
to leave my pack in jorja's car..
i will walk free and easy!
the journey to bay center is a bit long
so i will walk 10/12 miles,
then jorja will scoop me up on her way home!

moe comes by to pick up alex..
i have no knee braces, no pack..
no wonder the peace pilgrim traveled lightly!

heartbone connected to the footbone!

i am heading to moe and john's home
in raymond..it is about 24/26 miles
so we agreed i'd walk about 1/2 of those,
then moe would pick me up.

the trucks along 101..
all the roads i've been traveling ..
are big, long, noisy..
stirring up dust and cement!

my routine with them is to stop,
step aside a wee bit,
then give them a toothsome
grin from ear to ear..
and of course, wave!

when i arrived at clark's restaurant,
a gentleman came out..
he had seen me walking from afar..
his wife and grandson, anthony (6)
introduced themselves..
anthony gave me a high-five;
he has the peace sticker!
they gave me their blessings..

moe drives up..
with her daughter, alex..
who will be the governor
of washington!


diane p. connected me with moe,
moe connected me with kingsley and connie
(of high f'lutin' fame)..

the teachings offered by the dalai lama
in san francisco..(15 days to get there)
are: the joy of dependent arising.
no thing arises from its own side.
everything is dependent on everything,
for existence.
the interdependence of every single everything.
it is how we live, breath, and have our being!
yet...
we mistakenly identify with the "i"
that is separate..
the "i", "me", "mine"..
do not fixate on anything!

trees

granny served me her canned pears for breakfast..
o my..
we discovered we had both been
to the calanish stones in scotland..
way out in the outer hebrides..
nary a many have traveled so far..
we claimed our right to one another's heart!

walking 107 to join scenic 101
along the chehalis river
put me on the edge
with many a lumber truck..
trucks/trees going forward
trees/trucks going back!

..i composed..
a walking tree song
which i sung to the hillsides
that were shaved off and logged..
the land IS being re-forested
yet it looks/feels a bit of a mess..
there is an emptiness
somewhere in my mid-heaven!

for earth day..22nd april..
it actually has a bit more bark to it
when one foot goes in front of the other..

o you trees; trees without trees..
o you trees; birds without trees..
o you trees; squirrels without trees..
o you trees; 'coons without trees..
o you trees; deer without trees..
o you trees; cougar without trees..
o you trees; elk without trees..
o you trees; fox without trees..
o you trees; cats without trees..
o you trees; humans without trees..
o you trees; trucks without trees..
o you trees; trees without trees..

it does get one down the road..
chanting as i walk..the river beside me..
sun and breeze..robin hopping in front to the tune..
quince blooming..strong smell of cedar.

have i told you lately?

it is great good fortune to be able to walk:
to walk towards/in peace and unity..
to walk in simplicity..

i remembre an anecdote
from prime minister nehru...india..
when gandhi said..
he wanted to live simply
so others could simply live..
nehru retorted..kindly!
do you know how much
it costs me for gandhi to live simply?!

this walk would be very different for me
were it not for o so many of you
who have generously offered support..
money-wise, provisions, places to stay..
meals, mail collection and banking..
talismans of protection..
e-mails, comments of encouragement
and lovingkindness!

it has been a month
since we all gathered
at the school to step out
on the peacepath..
with a deep bow to YOUR feet;
my hands folded in gratitude..
thank you!

granny!

there was a motel in montesano
where i was heading for the night..
it was in the busiest section of towne..
trucks and tractors buzzz, buzz-buzzing..
i chequed in at the gas station
where i was to register.
i simply could not bring my self
to sign up..asked about any b and b's..
asked to borrow the fone book..
they found the one and only for me..

i rang and granny answered..
the right place..!
she waved me down and we set a time for tea!
she is a quilter..o my..she makes fruitcake o my o!
she and four generations of family
run the grande olde home..
baseball on the big screen with popcorn,
laundry to be done..fresh grass to rest on..
a pretty good rate for a traveling waif..

before the game, i was introduced to another guest.
he stays 4 nights a week, then travels home.
he works at the nuclear reactors..

i watch my judgement surface;
remembering my anxiety
around the energetics of the stacks..
i see the war zone warming up..
there! there is the start of war!

we all watch the ball game
until we can't take it anymore..
mariners-zip
athletics-9

in the middle of sleeptime..
i am awakened by shouts,
by moans, by cries of terror.
nightmares in the next room..
that is the feeling i had
walking in the shadows of the towers..
nightmares..
wraiths galloping away with the mind..
it is oddly intimate to be privy
to a strangers dreams..
the cries and screams continued..
the war subsided in my heart..
breathing in..the stallions of night
breathing out..magnolias!