bagatelle

 The very moment

He knew not much time remained

Each breath so careful

we too

Yes, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin!

Noosphere, pleroma, complexity-consciousness.

He, too, was condemned for alleged ambiguities.

Times change, thinking evolves, Le Phénomène Humain never ceases to disappoint some and unanimization, our movement toward Some Thing ahead of us, must also aspire toward Some One. 

We stumble awkwardly toward this authentic unanimity.

Have you heard this one? 

A Governor and a Journalist walk into a correlation between materiality and spirituality and long to become conscious.

neither young man nor old man

 In Paris a bench

never sat on, river not

crossed, seen, song unsung

maybe jahwist didn't exist

 fictitious and not 

factitious, it's a story --

J wrote God's bio

gotik in der steiermark

 everything kills you

flea collars, carbos, whiskey --

how am I still here

rorate coeli desuper

 Looking at moon, halved

Thin branches over cabin

Morning window prayer

losing track

 Emptiness each day

One following another — 

This echoing void

never lost

Two for Thursday morning:

1.

Having no destination,

I am never lost.

― Ikkyu

2.

Nikos Kazantzakis’ epitaph reads, "I hope for nothing. I fear nothing. I am free." (Δεν ελπίζω τίποτα. Δε φοβούμαι τίποτα. Είμαι λέφτερος.)

Some translate the first phrase, “I expect nothing.”

today, if you hear the voice of the lord

 If nothing comes, then

Let it go — life is right here

Nowhere else, purring

change of weather

Ice fishing houses 

are off the pond, up on land --

eagle fends for self

alter christus

 One room is not the other room.

But the doorway

Moving through that luminary space

Doing the movement itself

What do we call that transfiguration?

in the harbors

Of Cheslaw Milosz, he said: “we knew him in the harbors, we never saw him in the full sea,” Not in the hurricanes at sea.

He concludes:  "The world doesn't belong to any single poet." (Adam Zagajewski, UC Berkeley, 2011)

Take a view. Speak the sight. Round the world with words!

but in wonder

 Yes

92 yr old elder from 

Just west of New England 

Morning after

Sunday evening practice

Writes gratitude for

Teisho by Karin Ryuku Kempe, Zen Center of Denver

As she presents poem by Cheslaw Milosz 

To make organic our fondness:

Encounter

 

We were riding through frozen fields in a wagon at dawn. 

A red wing rose in the darkness.

 

And suddenly a hare ran across the road. 

One of us pointed to it with his hand.

 

That was long ago. Today neither of them is alive, 

Not the hare, nor the man who made the gesture.

 

O my love, where are they, where are they going? 

The flash of a hand, streak of movement, rustle of pebbles. 

I ask not out of sorrow, but in wonder.

 

~ Czeslaw Milosz ~ 

 (The Collected Poems 1931 - 1987,

translated by Czeslaw Milosz and Lillian Vallee)

where you are is who you are

 Come

Arrive here

Now

See what is

Before you —

There

You are

And will become

Infinitely

This