Saturday, September 23, 2017

personal foul

While in Canada there’s no need to read about the fight the president of the USA has picked with black professional athletes.

So I don’t.

I walk long wharves. I imagine what Americans must think of their president. I enjoy chocolate creme pie and water with lemon.

I’ll leave the contretemps between millionaires to their good strategies.

And fall asleep with easy mind.

Friday, September 22, 2017

sip what I cannot

Weary, perhaps of trying to enunciate the aphasiac-incoherent.
But if I say, “I will not mention his word or speak anymore in his name, “his word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my bones. I am weary of holding it in, indeed, I cannot. (-Jeremiah 20:9 NIV)
Our bodies are the language we cannot decipher or articulate.

Oral wording fails.

Is the body of Christ the silent expression of presence in communion?

Interrelationality with no need for explanation?

A not-one/not two arising of nondual chiaroscuro after you Alphonse after you Gaston no you/no you?

Prophets and mystics are fishermen and beachcombers in our current age.

It is the tide that reveals and conceals. It speaks by approach and withdrawal, by rising and falling.

If we are to pray we might become novices of water.

As we are water itself.

As what-is-called-God is water itself baptizing bodies, oceans, rivers, lakes, brooks, ponds, rain puddles, faucet drip, and tears of recognition.

Morning dew.

Damp deck.



friends (חברים)

Shanah tova u’metuka: (a good year and sweet) —
this Rosh  Hashanah 
this new year,


Thursday, September 21, 2017

in smooth stone

Afterglow of sunset from Hall’s Harbour deck table alone outside

Back in dark to Harbourville and apple pie tiredness from waterside walks all day

Nothing matters but earthly matters in smooth stone under craggy cliffs

Standing at wharf edge as Fundy Bay offers itself to the God we do not know

Wednesday, September 20, 2017

remoteness and solitude

Andere Gesichter, andere Stimmen! (Other faces, other voices).

That’s what we came up with after Sunday evening conversation reading the piece about a Dalai Lama and a Lama Hum. We are clowns attempting to cheer or veer others, wearing masks, disguising voice, pretending to not be who we are, thinking what we see or what we hear is not us.

A woman across the table offers, “Me in another moment.”

Tide comes in, tide goes out. Boats sit on bottom, boats rise to wharf.
Right speech, harmlessness, 
Restraint in speaking ill of others, 
Moderation in food,   
At peace in remoteness and solitude, 
Devotion to higher meditation. 
This is the teaching of the Buddhas. 
- Dhammapada
This higher meditation, surely, must pertain to the movement of fishing boats to tucked-in corner of Harbour after two weeks out fishing for mackerel for winter lobstering. As well as the ways we recognize ourselves in the cadence and visage of someone appearing in our surround.
We are, as God is, alone and one, once we hear, once we see.

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

the sound of what is being said

Earth is sill.

And silent.

Earth's stillness and silence is prayer.

We pray to the extent we listen to earth.

Still and silent we learn what act is, what action means.

Walking dirt road above fundy waters fingering beads kwan seum bosal (perceive world sound).

Mountain Ash and walking stick curving hilly stretch.

as time goes by



change --


It is the

play of

appearance and

fade away








Monday, September 18, 2017

monday aft 81° easterly

In a different country

An hour left behind at border

Ferry crosses Bay of Fundy yawing

Fog surrounding temporal disappearance

Grey water grey sky grey horizon

Sunday, September 17, 2017

sun eve practice

Now that
Everything has Become clear We see That we are No w here