Monday, September 2, 2013


no wind horse came
fed instead
cisplaten above
etopiside below
and travel seas
they fly still in a pilgrim field
far far away.

Sunday, August 25, 2013

One-eyed lion

To the lake it is open
a portal into blue.
His right eye slips back into stone.
He is not moved. He is not moved.

I want to go to him, now, and ask
if he will still be here
in a year.


Outer limits.
One's summary may just begin at the horizon.
I look out over a cloudless, summer sea.
Heat has left a pink haze over things.
Cicadas. Wind.
One more day! He deserves this.
The water,
hot air,
even the insects
act as reservoir,
stretching reserves.

Here's the pool I want him to find,
on such a day as this.

Saturday, August 17, 2013


I read The Story of San Michele when I was in my thirties, and dreamed of finding or building a white house soaked in light.

Axel Munthe loved the sun.

In one day, in his fifties, Munthe's life changed - a dim eye, detached retina, led to near blindness.

He moved from homes of light to a dim tower, a curtained palace.

And yet, knowing it may have led to his loss of eyesight, he never abandoned his passion for sunlight.

Y te espararé,
le robaré besos al tiempo,

un rumor...el viento me despierta
Y aquí estarás.                                       (Ignacio Ballesteros)

This is where I will wait for you
stealing imaginary kisses as time goes by

A noise, the wind awakes me
and you're already here.                

Thursday, August 15, 2013

muso soseki 2

Why not ghosts and heavens, gods and God, godlessness, nothing, lux continuum, absolutes of longing and completion and darkness?

A sacred place begins as a cave, a rock, a tree, water. We build dreams, paint incantations, dance. But such central, supporting spiritual poles will lose their vigor, secularise, crumble into the dirt. Our nature is to forever forget and reconstruct  the holy.

What this is does not change.

Emperor Go-Daigo's ghost was feared by his antagonist Takauji Ashikaga. He asked for the help of Daigo's friend, the monk Muso Soseki, to build and grow a place of spiritual appeasement, upon the corrupted ruins of Daigo's favorite palace. Together they constructed a dream of tree and green, water, light, shadow, and shelter. Takauji and Muso grew together, close and into the temple they made and cared for. 

Takauji remembered. Fishes' eyes never close. Day follows night endlessly.

In each of us is a City of Purple Mountains and Crystal Streams.


muso soseki

Illness teaches the biological and timely impossibility of knowing.  
Without the personal "me", a sense of before and after and now lose relationship, slipping into one another seamlessly, on and on and on. 

" Green mountains have turned yellow so many times...When the mind is still the floor where I sit is empty space."