Sow

Offer your outrage,
anxiety and fear
as fertilizer
for the Void.
Sow your troubled mind
in dark furrows
of the vacuum.
Mother Silence
will send up flowers.

Off Trail

Off trail
in a cloud
on the holy mountain
I came upon a marmot
saying his prayers.
I left something there
as an offering -
my silence.

~Took this photo yesterday on Mount Tahoma

Something's Not Quite Right'

When the world does not conform
to the story in my head
I get a feeling that
"something's not right."
Why is the story in my head
not down-loading properly?

Why do I sense that the world
needs to be fixed
and I must repair what is "wrong"
by imposing my story
onto the mystery
of the ineluctable?
Yet the world is not a problem.
The problem is
the story in my head.
It's never quite the same
as your story, is it?
And so there is conflict,
there is suffering,
even when our stories are about
salvation, about justice
and equality, about the perfect
marriage, the cleanest
environment, or gaining
enlightenment...
Happiness cannot arise
if we slather the world in the thin
veneer of our narration.
Happiness is the dance
of atoms ordered by
dynamic silence
in the heart of now
when we let both story
and teller disperse
like a fine mist
and allow all things
to clarify themselves
the way silt filters falling
through a mountain brook
in liquid transparency.
Now rest in the miracle
that has always
already happened.
Just shut up and see.
A rain cloud vanishes.
There are crystal drops on
blades of grass, each containing
the sun.