Joy In Motion
Lessons learned
continue to echo,
to circle back,
time and again.
Evolving, maturing,
multiplexing on a vector
with the present season.
Like practicing a song
you know by rote,
until you know it
by Heart.
Slainte,
Paz
Now
To these sheep grazing on the hill,
It is not Wednesday.
It is not 6:34, or July,
Or our pinnacle days of summer.
It is not infancy or maturity,
Youth or old age.
Nor a workday or holiday,
Not weekday or weekend.
To these sheep grazing on the hill,
To these calves basking in the sun,
To these birds that soar above me,
It is Now.
Seek peace,
Paz
Frosted Wonder Woods
In these, our bitter days of winter,
As bare trees stand, their feet cold in the snow,
Above our heads icy north winds blow,
And from our eaves hang frozen crystal splinters,
Let us then retire to our rooms,
Where we’ll sip hot tea and clasp our hands,
And know the warmth of love still stands
As overhead the winter rage looms.
No embers of wood, nor burning coal,
As the fire radiates its heat,
Upon our faces, upon our feet,
Can, as the heart, warm the soul.
Stay warm,
Paz
Spirit
Like the white butterfly
you came into my life
dancing about a wandering course gleefully,
occupying the senses totally.
Silently, the butterfly
flies on,
and I am left smiling.
Seek peace,
Paz
Into the fray
Please show me the way to make peace with your heart.
How do I stop this thing? How do I don’t let it start?
How do I know what to say? How do I know what I said?
When do I shut my mouth and keep it all in my head?
I just don’t want to argue with you any more.
I just don’t want to quarrel with you any more.
I just don’t want to fight with you any more.
I just don’t want to argue with you any more.
Can’t see my light, can’t plot a course.
Can’t navigate through the regret and remorse.
I’m trying to rise to find a better way
but it all gets entangled in all that we say.
What if I don’t argue about it any more?
Chilled to the bone, burned from the heat.
Cold as a stone, I’m dead on my feet.
Do I laugh like a fool? Do I break down and cry?
Do I fall to my knees? Do I lay down and die?
I’m just not going to argue with you any more.
Just not going to quarrel with you any more.
No, I’m not going to fight with you any more.
I’m just not going to argue about it any more.
Just not going to argue with you any more.
I just don’t want to argue with you any more.
Ah, my heart aches for
days gone by.
When thoughts raced past me
like rabbits in headlights,
and I was
young and timeless.
In these, our bitter days of winter,
As bare trees stand, their feet cold in the snow,
Above our heads icy northwinds blow,
And from our eaves hang frozen crystal splinters.
Let us then retire to our rooms,
Where we’ll sip hot tea and clasp our hands,
And know the warmth of love still stands
As overhead the winter rage looms.
No embers of wood, nor burning coal,
As the fire radiates its heat,
Upon our faces, upon our feet,
Can, as the heart, warm the soul.
My words fall like rain on a pond.
As each drop falls, it makes a ringlet,
in concert with many.
In a moment
the ringlet is gone.
Armchair Zen 