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Space

What if I am disappearing?
I don’t mind if the world at large
cannot see me but what if
I cannot see myself?
The professional is fading
as is the poet and the parent.
And the partner?
Will I leave an empty space
behind? Will it be a hole
someone might fall into?
Me perhaps.

Dream

The worlds we live in
are appearances to mind,
worlds we each make for
ourselves from our history,
perceptions, thoughts and actions.

Just these imagined
selfhoods creating unique
worlds out of nothing,
nothing out there or in here,
just dreaming in empty space.

Words

So, what's wrong with words?
Surely, useful labels for
the ten thousand things,
helping us communicate
with other people
we encounter in our world.
We can't escape them
but it is wise to be aware
of the great dangers they bring.

Words are the basis of
mental fabrications
that keep us all trapped
in our separate selves,
making us divide
undifferentiated
wholeness into parts
giving each its own label,
objects to us as subject.

Words make all things seem
fixed, solid and permanent,
so not belonging
to the ever-changing flow
in which all things are
impermanent, having no
separate selves that
can be fixed with a name and
tied down as reality.

My five

My five seven five
poems, not Haiku, not from
China or Japan.

Hat

Where ocean lulls itself
into lagoon
small boat lies still.
No more pointing into waves.
Steam rises from kettle
sitting on stove
fed by years of writing,
writing, writing.
An old newspaper
folded for a hat,
he sips Japanese tea
as Earth turns to occlude Sun.

Span

What was reality before
we came along with our small
minds trying to understand it?

What will reality be after
we have all faded away
taking our words with us?

And are these words before and
after an attempt to pin reality
down into a span of time?

Life conjured

Life conjured out of
empty space by thought. Birth and
death just delusion.

Balloon

Where can I find the
energy to lift my hot
air balloon over
the ten thousand things? What must
I throw out to stay afloat?

Dive

Each dived down
when they found a space
between words.
They swam together
until they dissolved.

Weave

The world is woven
with interconnected threads.
This is, so that is.
You are there, so I am here.
Nothing, no one, separate.

Stick

Escaping troubles
and strife in the world below,
though aware snow-capped
mountains existed only
in his mind, he came
fully equipped with compass,
walking boots and stout stick.